Quite The Normal Life

Well. . .

2012-02-13T09:10:00.002-06:00

I have not blogged in months. I was seriously considering deleting this blog, but then all hell broke loose and now I feel that I need to talk about this issue. A few weeks ago, the Department of Health and Human Services issued that mandate that requires all employers, regardless of beliefs, to provide birth control and sterilization services to all employees free of charge. The Catholic Church rightly protested that this is a violation of our first amendment rights of Freedom of Religion and within a week or so, our fearless dictator came out with a "compromise". This so-called compromise requires insurance companies, not employers, to pay for birth control and sterilization. Well, THAT'S better, right? No, it isn't. Just how are the insurance companies going to pay for this? By raising the prices they charge all of us for premiums. We end up paying for it anyway. And it STILL violates the First Amendment. Separation of Church and State works both ways, Mr. Former Constitutional Law Professor.

Dictator Obama avers that he is just concerned with the health of women. I don't swallow that. Pregnancy and childbirth are not diseases. Heart disease is a disease. Diabetes is a disease. Cancer is a disease. Epilepsy is a disease. Pregnancy is a condition that generally ends well for both mother and baby. Yes, there are the occasional tragedy of a mother dying in childbirth and children can be still-born, but these instances are relatively rare. Many more women (and men too - let's not forget that men get sick too) die of heart disease, diabetes and cancer. Why don't we offer chemo free for cancer patients? Insulin free for diabetics? Dialysis free for kidney patients?

Because the Obama regime is not as concerned with health care as they are with promoting an agenda. And that agenda ultimately comes back to abortion. If he can get Catholics to lay down and play dead on this issue, it is one more step to making sure that abortion is firmly implanted (pun intended) in the mindset of our nation.

It's got nothing to do with health care. Nothing at all.

And I'm darned if I am going to lay down and play dead. I'm fighting. My rights as a Catholic are not going to be trampled. I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it.

Halloween

2011-11-03T12:10:00.002-05:00

Kara and her family came over on Halloween to trick-or-treat in our neighborhood. As Kara ran up to our door, I met her with a basket of candy. I handed some to her and her parents both said, "What do you say, Kara?" Kara smiled and said "May I have more candy, please?" When you think about it, that's more polite than "Trick or Treat."

Adventure in Real Estate

2011-09-22T13:34:00.002-05:00

It's taken a long time, but the moment has now arrived: my in-law's house is now on the market!! Hopefully, this will be a short adventure, but we all know that real estate moves slowly these days. It really is a great house, with three bedrooms, two full baths, an office, a first floor family room with gas fireplace, a first floor laundry room and a HUGE backyard with lots of trees. We've worked and sweated and floundered in the dark, but now the house is up for sale and a new adventure begins. Please pray to St Joseph for a quick sale and a great price for us. Thank you!

Well, That Was Awkward

2011-09-08T08:08:00.002-05:00

Just before closing yesterday at work, a customer came into the store on her cell phone. She was loud and angry. She went back into our uniform room, so I stayed up at the front, trying not to hear what she was saying. It was hard. Then she brought her purchases up to the front counter, still on her phone. This is pretty much how it went:
To person on phone, "Well, she's just a homewrecker. I don't know what she thinks she is doing, but it's just wrong."
To me, with bright smile, "Hi!"
To person on phone, "I know. She is ruining everything. She is such a b. . . "
To me, smiling, "How much do I owe you?"
To person on phone, "Well, she won't get away with it. I refuse to let the family go through that."
To me, smiling again, "Thank you."
To person on the phone, as she goes out the door with her purchases, "I know, right! It's just crazy. . . . . "

Number 1) It is rude to conduct a phone conversation in a public place, especially when you are dealing with a salesperson, because. . .
Number 2) we have ears. We hear things. We may be trying hard not to, or we may be listening avidly, but either way, if your conversation is private, keep it that way
Number 3) This was obviously a private conversation. It should not have been made public (please know that I changed the words of the conversation that I overheard to make it generic.) I did not want to hear this conversation, but she was practically shouting and could be heard even over our music.

I know that none of you are guilty of this, but if you know someone who does stuff like this, tell them it's just not right. Call them right now, in fact.

If You Are What You Eat. ...

2011-09-05T09:29:00.001-05:00

. . . then I am glad that I am Catholic.

Oh boy!

2011-07-10T14:02:00.002-05:00

Ever feel like you are the main character in a situation comedy, only someone forgot to tell you??

My son brews beer as a hobby. He's pretty good at it. He bought a kit and follows the directions to the T. He bottles it and GENERALLY it turns out very well.

However. . . . earlier this year, he brewed a beer using a locally grown maple syrup. I don't know if the syrup threw things off or what, but it was super-carbonated. When he opened the bottles, the beer foamed out of the bottle all over the place. What was left tasted ok, but what a mess! He had given us several bottles, which I put away and forgot about.

Yesterday he was over and was telling us that at his house, two of the bottles had exploded in his basement - glass and beer all over the place! I started to get worried about ours - it was stored on a shelf in our "library." What a mess it would be if a bottle exploded in there! So today I moved all nine bottles to our kitchen counter top, planning on opening the bottles s-l-o-w-l-y in the sink and dumping the contents. That plan worked well for the first two, but as soon as I put the bottle opener to the third one - KABOOM! The cap flew off and soon I was covered in beer. It was also all over our ceiling, the floor, the counter top, the cabinets, the window and our sparkling white battenberg lace curtains. Grumbling, I cleaned everything up. Vowing to be very careful with the remaining 6 bottles, I grabbed bottle #4. It behaved perfectly. Thinking that I now knew the trick to opening them, I carefully began prying open #5. KABOOM! It was worse than the first time. Beer in my hair, in my eyes, down the front of my shirt, down my arms, on the ceiling, on the window, on the cabinets, on the counter top, on the floor. Here we go again. I really felt like I had been dumped in an "I Love Lucy" script.

I am not totally stupid though. I carefully bundled up the last 3 bottles and tied them up in several layers of plastic bags and threw them out. With luck, they will explode in the garbage truck or at the landfill where no one has to clean up after them.

My formerly white kitchen curtains are being washed with bleach right now. And me- I've cleaned myself up as best I can. Adoration is in less than an hour. Haha. Life is so funny.

The Farmer's Field

2011-07-09T21:11:00.002-05:00

View Larger Map

I grew up in the south suburbs of Chicago. "A" on the map above is my old house. As you may be able to see, behind my house is a semi-rectangular park. At the narrow end of the triangle is an interstate highway, but at the wider end is a small grove of trees and a field beyond them.

When I was a child, we used to call that little grove of trees "The Farmer's Field". It was actually a smaller clump back then - a few apple trees that didn't really bear any fruit and a path worn by the kids our our neighborhood. Surprisingly, the farm still exists in the midst of suburban sprawl. I am glad to see that it is still there.

On summer days, my best friend (who lived next door) and I would ask our mothers if we could eat in The Farmer's Field. Generally, we were given permission. This also involved bringing my brother and her sister and maybe a brother or two. We'd spread a blanket under the trees and eat our pbj's and apples. It was such a treat for us. Sometimes we'd be allowed to play with our dolls out there under the trees. It was far enough away from home to make us feel daring, but close enough that our Moms could open the back door and holler to us.

It was another world out there under those scraggly trees. It was quiet and peaceful. I never remember other kids coming to claim the spot or the farmer asking us to leave. We never left messes and always treated the place respectfully. Those picnics and lazy summer afternoons under the trees were special.

As we grew up, The Farmer's Field was forgotten. I can't remember when we had the last picnic there, but it was decades ago. Sometimes I look at the google map of the area and can almost capture the essence of those long ago summer days. There was a magic under those trees. Too bad we have to grow up and become too sophisticated for such spaces, but I am glad that we had that place to dream in as children and remember as adults.

Dang.

2011-06-04T22:37:00.003-05:00

It's been less than two months since my Mom died and so far, we've had Easter, Mother's Day, a graduation, a baptism, Memorial Day picnic and now a birthday party, not to mention that three of our daughters have gone on trips and have had adventures and I've missed her terribly because all of them. I keep thinking how far short of her that I am falling. I am not nearly as sweet or kind or good as she was. I just wish that I could be half the woman that my Mom thought I was. In her eyes, I was some sort of saintly person. In reality, I'm just a fumbling woman, stumbling through life trying to get through without killing someone in the attempt. And I wish I had my Mom to talk to. I know she'd understand. And she'd make me feel better, 'cause that's what Moms do.

God Gives Burdens, Also Shoulders

2011-04-22T18:17:00.003-05:00

On April 11, 2011 at roughly 12:30 pm, my Mom lost her battle with lung cancer. I miss her like crazy. Our family is healing, but it's slow going. Sometimes I feel guilty that I don't feel worse and then other times, I sob uncontrollably.

The bottom picture was taken at Christmas 2 or 3 years ago. The top picture was taken March 3 and she was holding her brand-new great-grandson. The pictures show a dramatic change in her appearance. Never a large woman, Mom was down to 75 lbs at the time of her death. She is wearing a wig in the top photo. Up to a day or two before her death, she made sure that she was nicely dressed, fully made-up and had her "hair" on before anyone saw her. Two days before she died was her 73rd birthday. The family gathered at her house to share birthday cake. That day, she felt so badly that she didn't wear her wig. I think that surprised all of us. She didn't speak that evening, just quietly smiled until she just wore out and began to moan. After settling her more comfortably, we left in tears, knowing that she was dying. The next morning, she was unresponsive. She was taken to the hospital where she was to die.

Three days before she died, I picked up my brother and sister-in-law at the airport. I delivered them to Mom and Dad's house. Mom was sitting in their four seasons room, watching tv. She waved and smiled when she saw us. I had planned to only stay for an hour or so, but when I said my good-byes to Mom, she took my hand and said, "Don't go!". I stayed a little while longer. My Dad was cooking dinner for the four of them, so when dinner was ready, I really had to go home to prepare dinner for my family. I said good bye again and again, Mom took my hand and said, "Don't go!" I smiled and kissed her and told her that I would be back the next day - her birthday. "Don't go" were her last words to me.

Monday April 11 I received a phone call from the hospital where my Mom was. That morning I had gone to Chicago to pick up my daughter at the airport. She flew in to say good bye to her grandmother. We wasted no time in getting back, but we were 5 minutes from the hospital when I got the call that my mother had just died. I was devastated that I was not with her. Another daughter and I had spent the night with Mom at the hospital the night before so that she wouldn't be alone, and now, in spite of my plans, I wasn't there for her. The nurse assured me that she believed that my Mom planned it that way. A private person, Mom never wanted to be the center of attention. Maybe she did really plan to slip away while she was alone. My Dad and brother and sister-in-law had just left to get some lunch minutes before. I'd like to believe that Mom planned it that way. It hurts less.

That night, at home, I stared at my Mary Englebreit page-a-day calendar that Mom had given me for Christmas. The text was a Yiddish proverb: God Gives Burdens, Also Shoulders. It seemed so appropriate. While we had the burden of losing a wonderful person, we also had a close family, good friends and a faith to help us bear the burden.

May she rest in peace.

A Rosary for Carmen

2011-04-08T20:07:00.003-05:00

My mom has lung cancer. The last nine months or so have been very hard, from her diagnosis to now, when she is dying. It is sad for me to think that my mom won't be around much longer. Her birthday is tomorrow and it will be her last, unless a miracle occurs. Today as I sat in Adoration, I prayed a rosary for her and it occurred to me that her journey through cancer has followed a path much like the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary. Let me take you along as we pray for Mom and other cancer patients.

The First Sorrowful Mystery: The Agony in the Garden - just as Jesus went to his knees in the garden to pray that the cup of suffering pass, so too my Mom and those who love her also prayed that she be spared the pain that we all knew that would accompany her illness. Jesus prayed that "thy will be done" and we, too, had to come to the realization that God's will be done.

The Second Sorrowful Mystery: The Scourging at the Pillar - Jesus was whipped by the Roman Soldiers almost to the point of death - a chastisement he didn't deserve. Mom had several surgeries to remove fluid from her lungs and from around her heart. She endured IV's and chemotherapy to try to scourge this horrible disease from her body. She was weakened and felt beaten, but like Jesus, she lived to face yet another trial.

The Third Sorrowful Mystery: The Crowning of the Thorns - in order to humiliate Jesus and ridicule him, the soldiers plaited a crown of thorns and placed it on Jesus's head, pressing the thorns into his flesh and laughing at the "King of the Jews". In order to kill, or at least retard the growth of the cancer cells that invaded Mom's brain, rays of radiation were aimed at her head, weakening her even more and causing her hair to fall out. Both Jesus and Mom felt mortification from this crown of thorns and yet the journey isn't over yet for either of them.

The Fourth Sorrowful Mystery: The Carrying of the Cross - Weak and bleeding and full of pain, Jesus shouldered his cross and carried it on the way to the Place of the Skulls. He fell, so near to death. Worrying that he would die before he could be crucified, Simon of Cyrene was drafted to carry Jesus's cross for him. There were little graces to be found, even along the way of the cross. Veronica wiping his face was a little thing that had big consequences for her. Mom too is carrying her cross on the way to Calvary. Unsteady and very weak, she uses a walker now to slowly move around her home. She needs help getting up out of a chair or out of bed. We can ease her suffering only a little, but those little things mean a lot to her as she moves along the way of the cross.

The Fifth Sorrowful Mystery: The Crucifixion - Jesus is nailed to his cross and hoisted aloft by the Roman soldiers. His mother, some of the Holy Women and the disciple he loved best are huddled together at the foot of the cross. Before he dies, Jesus commends his spirit unto the Lord and he forgives those who persecuted him. Mom isn't at Golgatha yet, but the hill is looming before her. Those who love her will keep a vigil with her as she goes to her Lord and creator. We will pray her along her journey and try to keep her comfortable and pain-free, if we can. We will weep and wail when she leaves us.

The good thing about the Sorrowful Mysteries is that they are followed by the Glorious Mysteries and the joy of the Resurrection. I have faith. I have hope. I will have joy.

Interesting Occurance

2011-04-08T07:40:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I was scheduled to work "the late shift", which means from noon on. When I got there, my boss had just opened an order from one of our sterling saint medal distributors and was checking them in. I started pricing them and getting them out.

"I don't know what to do." My boss said. "I ordered a St Gabriel medal and they sent us a St. Brendan medal instead. I know we can sell Gabriel, but when is the last time some one asked for Brendan?"

After wondering what to do for a few minutes, he finally said, "Oh well. Put it out. Who knows?"

An hour or so later, an older woman came in the store. She was looking for a gift for her grandson's first communion. She browsed for a while and selected a couple of things and then she signaled me to come over.

"Do you have anything with St. Brendan on it?" she asked.

Stifling a grin, I showed her the medal. "What is he the patron saint of?" she asked.

"Navigators", I answered immediately, wondering where in the world that answer came from. Then, questioning myself, I told her I would look it up. I grabbed a large patron saint book and it fell open to the page that read "St Brendan the Navigator". The chances of that happening are next to none, yet it did.

I showed the book to the customer and told her how the book just opened to that page. "I'll take the medal" She said. "My grandson's name is Brendan."

When I related the story to my boss, we both laughed. Since the number of the medal he ordered was for St Gabriel and yet he received St Brendan, I can't help but feel that St. Brendan had his hand in this experience.

I hope that little Brendan has a wonderful first communion. I know that his patron saint is looking out for him.

Why?

2011-03-10T09:23:00.004-06:00

I bought some pretty new dish rags in my favorite cobalt blue color to match my kitchen. I used one once and then washed it with the whites with bleach. See the before look on the left and after on the right. Tell me why in the world would the colors not be color-fast? I mean, you use this dish rags to clean your yucky sink and to wipe up meat juices etc and you want them to be sanitary the next time you use them. Why would that pretty blue fade in bleach to that gray color? I like the gray and if my kitchen were black and white, I'd love it, but I wanted blue! It's like my rusty shower curtain hooks - I just don't get it.

Catholic Media Promotion Day

2011-03-09T10:13:00.002-06:00

March 15 is Catholic Media Promotion Day. When we bought our new car in late December, it came with a six month subscription to Sirius Satelite Radio. I played around with channels, listening to "The Seventies on Seven" and other channels until I discovered The Catholic Channel. I am hooked. I listen to Seize the Day with Gus Lloyd while taking Becky to school, The Catholics Next Door while going to work or running errands, The Busted Halo Show in the evenings while going to the store or the library. The Catholic Channel makes me wish I drove more! Seriously (Siriusly?), I am right now missing those long trips to Kansas or Ohio! EWTN also has a Sirius/XM station that I have listened to. I have always loved Father Mitch Pacwa and the Catholic Answers shows.

Check them out if you can. Watch EWTN on tv. Investigate some new Catholic recording artists on YouTube and iTunes. There's a lot of good stuff out there just waiting for you to find it.

Now to figure out if we are going to extend our subscription to Sirius. . .

Requiem for a Grouch

2011-02-20T19:46:00.006-06:00

Over the years, I've blogged a fair amount about a customer that I called "Oscar", due to his grouchy personality. Through those same years, Oscar became a friend of mine, someone I grew to care for. He held a place in my heart and I'd like to believe that I held a spot in his heart as well.

I came to know Oscar when he came into the store and went ballistic over a Kitchen Madonna statue. It offended him that Mary was wielding a broom. He called it "obscene." He intimidated me and I was little bit afraid of him. Later we had a discussion about everyday holiness and how it related to the Kitchen Madonna. Much later, he actually bought that statue to give to a newly married couple. I loved him for that.

We also discussed every day things. I watched his grief when his wife died after having suffered a stroke. His health wasn't good either. He had an episode in the store that really scared me. In his grouchiness, he refused to let me call his son or anyone else for help. He couldn't, however, forbid me to call my husband. I think my concern over his well-being was another bonding moment. We became closer after that incident.

This fall, he showed up on at his usual time on a Saturday afternoon. We talked for awhile and he left. "See you next week", he said as he left. "No, you won't. I am going to Chicago next weekend and I won't be here." "Then I'm not coming!" he said. That made me feel oddly good. He was coming to the store, not to shop, but to talk to me. I liked that. A few weeks later, he showed up at the usual time. It had been some time since I had seen him and he gave me a hug. I have to tell you that I am always surprised to find out that someone LIKES me, really LIKES me, so I was pleased to discover that he really LIKED me. He enjoyed our weekly chats.

This brings me to the pictures here. Last spring, he was telling me about buying a really funny birthday card at a local grocery store. He had the text memorized. I laughed and said I'd have to get one for my brother. The next Saturday, there was Oscar with a gift for me - the card! And I have to tell you, this is vintage Oscar. It sounds just like him. I love it.

This week Oscar died. I read about it in the paper. I cried. Oscar went from being a scary customer to one of my dear friends. I will miss him and his tirades. They hid a heart of gold.

My brother's birthday is coming up soon. I will send him Oscar's card. But I had to scan it first, because it was a gift from a dear friend.

Rest in peace, Oscar.

Perks

2011-01-20T09:51:00.003-06:00

One of the perks of my highly-paid (ahem!), high-status (ahem!) job is that I am surrounded by books. And not just any books, but books that I like to read and I GET TO READ THEM! In fact, my boss encourages it. Although he is the owner of a Catholic book and gift store, he does not like to read. I do. I really, really do. So he has told me that I can read any book in the store - it's actually good for business as customers often ask if we have read a book and occasionally I can say that I have and discuss it with them. Yesterday after we finished figuring out what First Communion and Confirmation cards needed to be reordered, I picked up a book that had just been delivered to the store and began to read. Unplanned by Abby Johnson is the true story of the director of a Planned Parenthood office who had an epiphany one day while assisting at an abortion. While Abby Johnson held the ultrasound wand over the mother's abdomen, she watched as the perfectly formed baby was fighting to get away from the cannula that was to suck it's life away. She suddenly realized that an abortion did not remove fetal cells, but killed a real, live human being. She had perpetuated a lie for her entire career.

The book traces her career with Planned Parenthood from her days as an idealistic college volunteer to her rise to director of the clinic. She was good at her job, but as the bottom line became more important to PP than what she saw as their ideals, she began to be disillusioned. Her disillusionment grew to outright repulsion at the abortion industry as her eyes began to open. Abby Johnson not only left Planned Parenthood, but ran (literally) to the Coalition for Life for sanctuary. She has now become a volunteer for them and , as I understand it, has begun the journey to join the Catholic Church as she now understands the idea behind the church's ban on ABC.

The book is honest and not every pro-lifer comes off well. Abby does not always come off well. The PP staff does not always come off well. It's a warts and all book, but the story is compelling and worth the read. I was fortunate to be able to read this in an afternoon - I did not want to put it down.

Thank you to my boss for allowing me to read this book at work. I love my job.

January

2011-01-12T09:19:00.001-06:00

There's nothing like a hot bowl of homemade soup on a day like this.

Ahhh, winter. Thank you for making us appreciate the simple, comforting things in life.

You know you've got the flu when. . .

2011-01-10T12:07:00.001-06:00

Ever had one of those dreams where you dream you are awake and you are wandering around your house, doing the things you usually do when you realize, "Hey, this isn't my house!" and you wake up to find that you had been dreaming and that you aren't getting orange roofing tiles put up on the siding of your house after all?

Yeah, me too.

Hmmmm

2010-12-07T14:36:00.002-06:00

When we raised our children,there was a lot of emphasis on self-esteem for children. I certainly agree that too many children have been hurt by things said by parents and peers and, contrary to the old saw, "sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me", words can and do hurt. I wonder though if we, as a generation of parents, went too far. When we potty trained our kids, we cheered and clapped if all went well. Sometimes we even made phone calls to tell grandparents of the momentous event. Saying "Very good!" in a sing-song voice became a sort of a joke in our house because we said it too often. I remember hearing about a t-ball league where score was not kept because that way, no one lost. Our generation cheered, coddled and swaddled our kids through their growing up years, making them believe that everyone loved them and that they were the center of the universe. To a certain extent, that is not bad. Children need to know that they are loved and they need encouragement. What they do not need is for someone to watch and approve their every move. I remember my niece at about age three "dance" by turning in circles and looking over her shoulder to make sure we were all watching. We were. We cheered her on to greater and greater dizziness.

Where am I going with this? Well,this weekend, my son called and asked if I could babysit my granddaughter while he and his wife went to a movie. I was happy to do so. It turned out that they were going to the movie because a friend was becoming engaged there and they were needed to be a part of this experience for her. When did proposals become a public event? When did they become a production that needed an audience? When I was proposed to, it was a spontaneous moment between my future husband and myself. No one else was needed or wanted. Now proposals are emblazoned on scoreboards at sporting events or even announced over the radio on local talk shows. The audience is as important as the question, if not more so. I know one couple who videotaped the proposal and put it on YouTube for everyone to see. Does that make the "question" any more touching? Is it more lovable for your fiance to grandstand your engagement than for it to be a private moment between two people who are in love?

I think we clapped too much.

Little Star

2010-11-08T15:30:00.003-06:00

It's not often that I review TWO books in one day! "Little Star" by Anthony DeStefano was a very enjoyable read and much easier than my last book review!

Here's a little back story on this book. When Anthony DeStefano was 15, he was a student in a class taught by author Frank McCourt ("Angela's Ashes"). One of the assignments was to write a children's book. "Little Star" was the result. The book was sent out to publishers as part of the assignment and was rejected. Perseverance pays off, however, and now,nearly 30 years later, "Little Star" is a winner.

"Little Star" is a retelling of the Nativity story from the perspective of a humble little star who is the only one who understands that the tiny baby born in poverty in a stable is a great king. His love for Baby Jesus causes him to burn brightly to help warm the little king on the cold, cold night of his birth. His efforts of love cause the little star to burn out, but we remember him and his sacrifice by placing a bright star on the top of our Christmas trees in his memory. His bright star helps us to celebrate Jesus's birthday every year.

"Little Star" is a charming book, beautifully illustrated by Mark Elliot, and it will be a well-loved addition to your Christmas tradition.

This book was sent to me by the author in return for this review.

Eugenio Maria Guiseppe Giovanni Pacelli

2010-11-08T15:03:00.002-06:00

I received the book, "Hitler, the War and the Pope" by Ronald J Rychlak from the Catholic Company in return for my honest review.

It took me a long time to read this book and not because it is boring. On the contrary, this is a book that is well-written and captures your interest. It took me a long time because there is a lot in it! Rychlak examines the role of Eugenio Pacelli, first as the Papal Nuncio to Berlin in the years after the first World War and then as Pope Pius XII.

In recent years, Pope Pius XII has received a lot of blame for his role in World War II. It has been said that he did nothing, that he didn't care for the fate of the Jewish people in Europe, that he was anti-semetic, that he was "Hitler's Pope." While I didn't buy the line that Pope Pius XII sat on his hands while the Jews were exterminated, I really didn't realize the extent of his efforts during the Hitler era.

If anyone has any doubts whatsoever as to the fervor of Pope Pius XII's feelings and actions during World War II, they should read this book. Rychlak examines every encyclical published by Pius XII, every Christmas address and every action to conclude that Pius did all in his power to protect the Jews. He spoke out, sometimes in veiled terms, but always so that it was understood that he was angry about the events in Germany, Poland and Italy.

The leaders of the Allied forces and many Jewish leaders at the time, recognized his efforts and lauded them. It was only decades later, when he wasn't around to answer them, that the attacks came.

Did you know that both the Vatican and Castel Gandolpho, the Pope's summer retreat, were attacked during World War II. At Castel Gandolpho, thousands of Jewish refugees were hidden by the Pope at the time of the attack and several hundred were killed. The Pope approved of efforts to give Jewish people forged Baptismal certificates as theses papers were honored, at least at the beginning of the war, to allow people to flee from areas where they most certainly would have been imprisoned and killed.

The Pope learned that whenever he spoke out against racism and nationalism, that the Nazi's then increased their efforts against the Jews and against Catholic religious. He was begged to tone down his rhetoric in order to save lives. I imagine some of the criticism in recent years has to do with what was perceived as his lack of action. In reality, this "lack of action" was an action done to save the lives of innocent people. In the meantime, the Pope worked tirelessly and quietly behind the scenes to do what he could.

I recommend this book highly. It is riveting reading and as a lawyer, Rychlak sets out his case logically and compellingly. Read it. You will be convinced.

From Our Parish Bulletin This Week

2010-10-10T14:50:00.002-05:00

Embryonic stem cells.

The very phrase brings up some emotional arguments on both sides of the fence. We’ve all heard Michael J Fox wax eloquent on the subject of finding a cure for Parkinson’s disease using embryonic stem cells. Many people erroneously believe that stem cells derived from human embryos are the hope for the future. The Catholic Church, while supporting the work done researching adult stem cells, firmly believes that “the killing of innocent human creatures, even if carried out to help others, constitutes an absolutely unacceptable act." - Pope John Paul II The Gospel of Life [Evangelium Vitae].

Embryonic stem cells can be unpredictable . Since the cells are harvested from human beings at an early stage of development, they have the potential to grow wildly, even producing cancerous tumors in some cases. Adult stem cells, on the other hand, are much less erratic and have shown some remarkable results, including the production of insulin by the use of the diabetics’ own stem cells and the regeneration of healthy heart tissue using an injection of the patient’s own bone marrow cells into his damaged heart. The list goes on and on. Let me tell you about one such story.

My brother was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma in late 1995. He spent over ten years on the cancer merry-go-round, first having surgery, radiation and chemotherapy treatments only to have a recurrence of his cancer within a year. The treatments would start over and soon another tumor would be found.

About four years ago, his oncologist suggested that a bone marrow transplant was in order. Although risky, (what if it didn’t work after all the preparation that goes into the procedure?), Steve was more than willing to try. After undergoing whole body radiation to kill all of his own bone marrow cells and suppress his immune system so that he would accept the new cells, Steve received two transfusions of cord blood. Even though this blood is taken from the umbilical cord immediately after a child’s birth, the cells in the blood are considered adult stem cells. Two donors are used to speed up the cells taking hold and generating new cells. At the time of his transplant, Steve’s donors were 6 and 9 years old. The blood had been frozen and stored until it was needed. The transplant procedure was hard on him. His immune system didn’t exist and he had to start over with all of the routine “baby” immunizations. He was tired and had a short temper, partially due to the medications he was on to reduce the chance of “graft vs. host” disease. However, he went back to work full-time as soon as he was cleared to do so.

How is Steve doing now, four years later? Well, this summer, he rode in a 150 mile bike race for MS and, best of all, he is cancer-free!

I was thrilled to be able to write this article for our parish bulletin for Respect Life Month.

Mum's The Word

2010-09-26T13:28:00.003-05:00

I bought some pretty purple mums for our front porch. (top picture) At least I thought they were purple. The consensus on Facebook seems to agree with Becky that they are pink, or maybe fuchsia. I guess I can accept fuchsia. I just loved the vibrant colors and the cute daisy-like blooms.

The bottom picture shows some real beauties - marvels of gardening, wouldn't you say? The lush blooms almost don't seem real. That's because they aren't. They are silk mums that I bought on clearance last fall. Our paper carrier seems to see them as a challenge each morning. Maybe it is the way I have them arranged, but he takes our paper and bowls with it to see how many mums he can knock down. Every morning it seems that I have to reset the pins - er, pots.

An Open Letter to a Thief

2010-09-17T13:15:00.002-05:00

Dear Bernard Thompson aka Derrick Smith aka Unknown:

You are a mystery to me. You are a likeable, charming young man. Nice looking and well-mannered, you could go far. You are bright and imaginative. You have good attention to details. You are friendly and personable.

So why do you steal? Why do you lie and cheat innocent people? What you are, dear Bernard/Derrick, is a thief and a con-artist. You are good at it. Very skilled.

I worry about you, because in spite of everything, I like you. I've been praying for you Bernard/Derrick. Although I don't know your name, God does. He also knows about your thefts. And if I like you, then I know that God loves you and cares for you more than you can know. Who knows, Bernard/Derrick, maybe you came into the store where I work for a reason. Maybe I was supposed to pray for you and maybe my prayers will help you end your life of crime. Hopefully you are only a petty thief and won't make crime your career. You've got a lot going for you.

You remain in my prayers. Take care (and leave the dvds in the store where they belong unless you intend to pay for them. )

Before and After

2010-09-16T12:23:00.002-05:00

The Lady in Teal

2010-09-08T19:06:00.002-05:00

About a half an hour before I was to close the store this afternoon, a customer walked in. In her seventies, she was perfectly coiffed and dressed very nicely in white pants and a pretty teal chiffon blouse, buttoned up to her neck and adorned with pearls and a gold cross. Her eye shadow matched her blouse perfectly. She said that she was looking for a crucifix to wear, so I showed her the jewelry cases and told her to let me know if she wanted to see anything. She asked me about the gold filled jewelry and let me know that she was looking for a two-tone crucifix and that she wanted something big. After awhile, she asked me if I was Catholic. When I answered that I was, she started in on me.

I really don't understand the people who go picking fights, because basically that is what it is. I don't go to the Christian store and ask them why they don't pray to the saints, why should someone come into our store and ask me why I do and then get all offensive about it? What gives them the right? About half-way though our "discussion", I told her that our talk was pointless. She was never going to win me over to her point of view (I've been there and I like my saintly friends too much to ever go back) and she was so closed minded that she was never going to change. That didn't stop her from goading me, asking me why we pray to dead people. When I told her that they aren't dead - they are alive in Christ and that God gave us the saints as guides and friends, well, I could tell she just didn't buy it. She was insistent that we just need to pray to Jesus and the rest is just silly. I asked her if she asked her friends to pray for her and she said, "Of course! But they are alive!" I replied that the saints are alive as well and denying a gift of God is just being ungrateful. At some point, she mentioned going to the doctor. Somehow, she believed that her little story would prove her point. I asked her why she went to the dr. Why didn't she just pray to Jesus to heal her and let it go? Why did she have to go to some one else? I explained to her that the doctor is used as an intercessor between Jesus and us to effect healing, just as the saints are used in our spiritual healing. God gave the medical staff gifts that he can use to help us , just as he has with the saints. She didn't like that much, because then she started in on purgatory. It became quickly clear that she didn't understand the concept. She didn't know how you could be saved in purgatory. I told her that if you made it to purgatory, you were ALREADY saved. I told her to think of it as the front porch of heaven, where you take off your dirty shoes before you go in. I told her it wasn't Hell Jr. It was a purifying, cleansing step on the way into heaven. She didn't want to understand and she just kept going. By this time, it is nearly 20 minutes past closing time and my patience with her is shot. I put my hand on her shoulder, thank her for coming in and show her to the door. As she left, I told her I'd pray for her. She got a parting shot in when she said that she hoped I'd only pray to Jesus for her. "Oh no, Ma'am.", I smiled. "I'm praying to all the saints and angels for you." And I closed the door and locked it.

Please pray for this woman. I'm sure she is as sweet as she can be and that her motives are only good, but she is barking up the wrong tree.

Here We Go Again

2010-08-07T18:29:00.003-05:00

My dad is in the hospital. And not for his hernia. (he is the one in "The Dream" who had to have emergency surgery, but hasn't yet.) Last night I was called to come and pick my parents up and take them to the ER. Dad was not feeling well. As it turned out, he has gall stones, including one large one that is blocking the pancreatic duct and has caused pancreatitis. They admitted him and got him started on anti-biotics to fight the infection. Once that is under control, I guess they remove the stone and then remove his gall bladder. His hernia surgery will have to wait. In the meantime, Mom has x-rays and treatments to go to.(lung cancer) I am basically living with her while Dad is gone. Poor Jim is handling our home and children. He deserves a medal. Or a beer. Or both.

Abba, help!

Sarah's Garden

2010-08-03T13:49:00.002-05:00

The nice folks at Thomas Nelson Publishers sent me a free copy of Sarah's Garden by Kelly Long to review.

It's been a crazy summer, as you know, so while I read this book a few weeks ago, it has sat on my coffee table ever so kindly reminding me of my duty to publish a review.

Sarah King is a shy Amish girl who is given the job of running her family's produce stand. About the time she takes over this job from her sister, a new neighbor moves in. Grant Williams is the new veterinarian in town and he is attracted to Sarah and visa versa. Family members notice Sarah's interest and try to warn her against falling for this "english"man. Meanwhile, Grant tries to temper his own interest. When Grant mysteriously disappears from the area, Sarah tries to forget him and move on. In the interim, a series of arsons plague the Amish community, including the ready-to-harvest fields of Sarah's family. Before too long, Grant returns with a big surprise for Sarah.

This was an easy, pleasant read that follows a predictable course. However when your own personal life has become quite unpredictable, that isn't a bad thing at all. I enjoyed reading this book and would recommend it for a break from real life.

A Dream

2010-08-02T16:03:00.002-05:00

At the beginning of this summer, before all the madness began, I had a dream. I don't remember most of the dream, only the part just before it woke me up, but somehow, someway I ended up on top of one of those hydraulic car lifts that mechanics use to work on cars. As I have mentioned here once or twice, I am terrified of heights and in my dream, I was petrified to be alone in the middle of one of those raised lifts. And of course, since it was a dream, it was raised to an impossible, dizzying level - far, far above the ground below. In my fear, I looked up to heaven and yelled "Abba! Help!" And then I woke up. As I mused over my dream, I wondered about my unconscious choice for a cry. Never have I referred to God the Father as "Abba" or "Daddy" or "Papa". I have always prayed to him as "Father". The dream stayed with me as I pondered and wondered.

Soon things began to happen. As I have alluded to here, a close family member was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer that has spread into the bones. An 11 day hospital stay and two surgeries later, chemotherapy has began and it is hopeful that it will end in remission. Another close family member needed to have emergency surgery, but an abnormal EKG has postponed that until the heart issues are addressed. Another close family member was told to have a node checked out and tests are pending. My lymphocyte levels have been low for months and to top it all off, my usual back problems have been a problem since late May. It took 6 weeks to get an appointment for a cortisone shot, which was this morning. What should have been routine turned more complicated with an accidental puncture of the dura mater and a leak of cerebral spinal fluid. I was told to spend the day flat on my back to avoid the HEADACHE and drink lots of caffeinated fluids. Caffeine stimulates the production of CSF, I guess. So it just keeps coming. And coming. And coming. Add all of that to the usual stuff that happens, like fender benders, plumbing failures and a mouse in the laundry and I'm feeling overwhelmed.

Abba! Help!

2010-07-17T21:10:00.002-05:00

We interrupt this regularly scheduled blog for a rant:

I hate cigarettes! Hate, hate, hate them. I wish they had never been invented. I hate cigarette companies and the ads they use(d) to hook generations of smokers.

I still remember all the catchy slogans and jingles from the commercials I saw growing up. Remember" Winston tastes good, like a (bump, bump) cigarette should"? "You can take Salem out of the country but, you can't take the country out of Salem". "Tarrington smokers would rather fight than switch", the Marlboro Man, Joe Camel,” You’ve come a long way baby, to get where you've got to today. You've got Virginia Slims now baby, you've come a long, long way" "Whaddya want, good grammar or good taste?", etc, etc, etc.

Here's a link to an interesting video from 1971 saying that some women want the "smaller babies" that are caused by smoking. @@ How about this one? How could that man live with himself??

Cigarette companies made themselves rich hoodwinking entire generations to think that smoking was fine. It was cool. It was sophisticated. It was liberated. It was STUPID! And it is Criminal for the companies to continue marketing a product that causes cancer. And there are still people stupid enough to put a cancer stick into their mouths for the first time even now. There are still people brainwashed enough to think you can be a "social" smoker and it's fine. It ISN'T! It's nothing but stupid to fall victim to the propaganda the tobacco companies are still spewing.

Please, please my friends, if you are hooked on cigarettes or other tobacco products, please do yourself and your family a favor and find a way to quit. It isn't easy. It isn't pleasant. It is HARD to break an addiction, but it will be worth it. If you haven't started, PLEASE don't.

Lung cancer isn't pretty. Having a family member with lung cancer hurts. That smoke just isn't worth it. EVER!

I now return you to your regularly scheduled blog.

Children and Shopping

2010-07-06T22:11:00.002-05:00

We are now in the midst of our annual sale. As always, parents and children flock to the store and chaos reigns. Children tend to get bored when Mom shops. Even when Mom is shopping for them, the kids don't like it. Today we had some kids who fought off boredom by fighting - using our merchandise as weapons. That is rare. I've noted four different categories of bored kids in my years at the store. They generally fall into one of these categories: spinners, dingers, rearrangers and closers. Spinners are usually (but not always) boys who discover that our rosary and jewelry cases spin. Once they find that out, they want to see how fast they can spin them. Since we have four spinning cases all right next to one another, if there are several bored children, spinning races can ensue. My boss looks askance on this. Dingers can be boys or girls. The idea is that they lean against our door and open and close it, causing the bell to ding each time. This is seemingly great fun, although I don't see the attraction. If you get a dinger and a couple of spinners going at once, it just about drives my boss and I crazy, which I suppose is another form of amusement for the kids.

Rearrangers and closers are quieter. Rearrangers are typically girls who don't like our displays and take it upon themselves to rectify the situation. They move hooks that hold vinyl clings for windows and visor clips. They collect one of each Holy Card and stack them on shelves. They move books to coordinate them by color, rather than subject matter. Things are arranged by size or shape or by some system known only to that child. While at the time it is happening, you never know it, it does take some time to put things back the way it is supposed to be after the busy child leaves.

Closers are boys. Always. They take it upon themselves to close every last jewelry box on the shelves. All the boxes of medals or rosaries that we have will be carefully closed. Again, it just takes some time to go back and open the boxes and rehang the rosaries. If you have a rearranger and closer in the store on the same day, you could be kept quite busy. Add some spinners and dingers, and you've got a full day. Throw in a few poster fighters (boys who sword fight with our rolled up posters) and you are ready for a stiff drink.

I am glad this sale only happens once a year.

Well, well, well. . .

2010-06-30T08:07:00.003-05:00

I've always told people that we live across the street from the church. That's not strictly true. There is one house in between us and the church, but we are very close. It's been busy, construction-wise near our house lately. The church's re-building and addition is nearly done. From our living room windows, we can see the parish offices. From our drive way, we can see the front of the church, the new Adoration Chapel and the parish hall. Also in the past couple of weeks, the town has been replacing the water main on the street that runs alongside our house (we are on the corner). As part of that work, they've place a Porta-potty right across from our driveway. It's green and quite visible.

Well, yesterday we got some very bad news regarding a family member. (I'll write more about this when I can). It upset me greatly. It upset my whole family greatly. When I spoke with my brother, all he could keep saying was "Crap." That seemed to sum up the situation adequately. Last night, I couldn't sleep and then got the idea that I should go into Emily's bedroom. It's at the front of the house, but on the opposite side of the house from our room. I figured I could look out her window and see the Adoration Chapel and it would make me feel better. I climbed up on her bed and looked out her window towards the church. The trees blocked the view of the chapel, but the Porta-potty was in full view.

I think there is a metaphor in there somewhere, but I'm too tired and worn-out to figure out what it is.

Um . . . .

2010-05-13T19:44:00.001-05:00

Several years ago, we noticed that whenever a driver did something stupid, it turned out to be a young girl in a red car. And have you noticed that the police seem to pull over red cars quite often?

So what's a mother to do when her daughter buys a red car?

Pray a lot, I guess.

St Christopher, pray for us.

Endings

2010-05-11T19:50:00.003-05:00

My mother-in-law passed away on Friday. She was 90 years old and had been suffering from Alzheimer's for years.

Even though her death was no surprise, it wasn't easy. We knew that it would happen sooner rather than later and yet when she was hospitalized this time, we were hoping that she still had some time.

She was 40 years older than me and I really wish that I could have known her in her younger days. Having seen the pictures (wow! There were hundreds of them!) from her carefree time in Brooklyn before and during the Second World War, she was a lot of fun. A fashion plate in her time, her clothes sense makes me a little jealous. Hats, bags, shoes, coats all co-ordinated with her lovely dresses. She had so many hats in fact, that each granddaughter was able to wear one to honor her at her funeral and there are still hats to spare!

I got to know her about 30 years ago. Here's what I know from my own experience: She loved, LOVED, LOVED her family deeply. She was blunt and honest and sometimes hurt people with her honesty, but she would do anything in the world for her family. Anything. She'd drop whatever she was doing to take care of your kids or even convince Dad to write a check and help someone out of a tight spot. She was an immaculate housekeeper. You really could eat off of her floor. Dust didn't stand a chance around her.

I'm going to miss her. She was feisty and opinionated, but you'll never meet anyone who cared more.

May she rest in peace.

Saint Clare: Beyond The Legend

2010-04-28T07:32:00.002-05:00

I am reviewing Saint Clare: Beyond the Legend by Marco Bartoli as part of the review program with The Catholic Company. The Catholic Company has provided this book free of charge in exchange for my honest review.

So here's the honest part: I saw this book just before my daughter was Confirmed and since she took St Clare as her Confirmation name, I figured this would be a great book for her. I snagged it on the new product page as soon as I could. And since I am being honest here, I'll admit to being very disappointed when it arrived. This book was not at all what I had expected.

My "in a nutshell" biographical knowledge of Clare was basically this: She grew up in an aristocratic family in Assisi and was greatly influenced by St. Francis. She left her comfortable life behind to begin an order of Franciscan nuns, to be known as "The Poor Clares". The end. My daughter obviously knew more. She had to write a paper on her saint and did quite a bit of research on her. I expected that this book would include more "behind the scenes" type of information and would increase the knowledge of both of us.

This Sunday, we were helping with our annual Stewarship appeal at our parish. Our daughter tags along mostly because she doesn't like to be home alone all day. (I actually LIKE to be alone all day, but I get where she is coming from). I handed her the book and told her that she could read it while we worked. She sat with it for about ten minutes before she sat it aside. "This is not a biography of St. Clare, " she said, "It's . . . . boring." Well, she's in 8th grade, so I took her review with a grain of salt. Later that day when our stewarshipping duties were over, I picked up the book to read.

She was right.

It's not a traditional biography of St. Clare. If you didn't know anything of her life, you wouldn't learn much from this book. However, if you are a Secular Franciscan, for example, or a Franciscan scholar, this is the book for you. The book is a scholarly study of the printed knowledge of St Clare. It compares what is written about her with what is NOT written or what has been written out of various histories. If you are an academic, this book would be a very helpful resource. If you are looking for some basic or even beyond basic information about St Clare, you'd be better to look elsewhere. I found Marco Bartoli's writing style to be ponderous and heavy. Maybe it's because I picked it up after a long day of work, but I literally fell asleep reading it.

Thank you to The Catholic Company for providing this book to me for my review. I appreciated the nap. : )

Sorry

2010-04-28T07:12:00.003-05:00

I have become a lazy blogger. Occasionally I think of a topic that I'd like to blog about, but I just don't do it. Life has become incredibly busy, but honestly I COULD find the time to blog if I made it a priority. I'm not sure what my problem is. Yes, I am hooked on Facebook and spend waaay too much time on it. But I could still do this blog and Facebook too if I wanted to. Why don't I want to? I have seriously considered not blogging anymore. I have 13 followers and I doubt anyone would miss me terribly (especially considering the erratic nature of my posting). Yet I haven't done that yet. Yet. (Boy that's a lot of "yets") I have another book to review for the Catholic Company, so I have at least one post left in me. What happens after that is up in the air. I hate to say goodbye, but I'm not doing a very good job of keeping up with other blogs and am doing an even worse job of keeping up on my own. So now I've made my musings public here. (well, as public as 13 people can be!) You now know where my feeble little mind is wandering. So we will see what I decide. Right now, I'll continue with this silly blog and see what the future brings.

Never Give Up

2010-04-19T06:28:00.002-05:00

Thank you to The Catholic Company for providing the book to me free of charge in exchange for my review.

Never Give Up - My Life and God's Mercy is written by John Janaro, a professor at Christendom College and a father of five children. Throughout all of his life, Janaro has suffered from chronic depression with episodes of Obsessive Complusive Disorder. Within the last decade, he was also diagnosed with Lyme Disease, a condition caused by deer ticks that is marked by severe pain that can be so bad as to be crippling. And if that weren't enough, Janaro's youngest child, born during a relatively symptom-free time period in his life, had severe intestinal problems and she spent her first seven months of life in the hospital. I think it is clear that this man knows what it means to suffer.

How does a Catholic Christian deal with such suffering? He turns to God's mercy.

This book is a testimony to God's love and mercy. Part chronicle of his illnesses and part devotional, Janaro explains how he can praise God because of his sufferings.

On a somewhat personal note, I must tell you that I understand pain and the effects of pain on a person's quality of life. I certainly understand the horror and the worry that occurs when a child is sick. I am less successful in understanding mental illness. Intellectually, I understand that some/many/all mental illnesses are caused as the result of a chemical imbalance, yet I have to confess that part of me still belongs to the " Oh, get over it!" school of thought. Reading Janaro's first person account of depression and OCD has helped me take another step on the way to complete understanding of this medical problem. I think that deep inside most of us is the feeling that people should be able to reach down and pull themselves up by their boot straps and when that simply cannot be done, it adds another layer of frustration and the feeling of failure to the sufferer.

So what to do?

Don't lose faith in God, says Janaro. Even when life is at it's blackest and you feel alone and lost, God is there by your side. Our sufferings are " the reverberations of His great heart suffering because of the smallness of our love." Janaro concludes that "you must let Him suffer your pain and create within it a space for love." God's mercy endures forever and all we need to do is ask for it.

I mentioned earlier that this book is part devotional. Interspersed throughout the book are verses of prayers that Janaro wrote during times of trial. Beautiful and poetic, these prayers can be a starting point for our own prayers for help and mercy.

Not Long For This World

2010-04-07T09:35:00.002-05:00

This is our elderly blue van covered in a most appropriate shroud of snow. We got this van just before Becky was born. We could fit all 7 of us in it and it has served us well. However, age has caught up with this non-clunker (it supposedly gets 19 mpg and therefore got ONE stinking mile a gallon more than what qualified for the Cash for Clunkers program last year) and it is nearly time for it to limp into that big car lot in the sky. I took it for a routine oil change on Monday and while there, the brake line on one side sprung a leak and we were told that the serpentine belt was about to go. We discussed price and decided to get both fixed. We need two cars, unfortunately. However, while trying to fix the serp. belt, it was discovered that several other parts were on the verge of failure. We opted to just fix the brakes and just hope for the best.

So now we are looking. At first we thought we go with a used car, but we've had such bad luck buying used. Now we are looking for a smaller, fuel efficient car with payments that we can afford. We think we know what we want but are open for suggestions. Anyone have any??

The Vital Importance of the Pro-Life Stance.

2010-03-22T11:39:00.000-05:00

"THEY CAME FIRST for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.

THEN THEY CAME for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.

THEN THEY CAME for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.

THEN THEY CAME for the Catholics,
and I didn’t speak up because I was a Protestant.

THEN THEY CAME for me
and by that time no one was left to speak up." Martin Niemöller (1892–1984)

This is why I am a pro-life activist. I protest, I call my representatives, I email Congress. I want to be a voice of the voiceless. When people become inconveniences, other people need to make the world know that each human life has meaning and purpose, from the unborn to the elderly and everyone in between. None of us has the opportunity to be preborn again, but all of us will have the opportunity to be sick and/or elderly. All life is beautiful and sacred. And all life needs to be protected.

Artichokes

2010-03-21T09:04:00.003-05:00

We like artichokes. I found these beauties for a dollar a piece yesterday and couldn't resist. They were large and just about perfect.
You slice the stem off of the bottom and cut off about an inch of the top. Then with kitchen scissors, you cut the thorny tops of of each outside leaf. Put them in a large pot, like a dutch oven or soup pot. Cover with water and add some cloves of garlic if you like. Bring pot to a boil and boil for about 1/2 an hour, until some of the lower leaves fall off.
This is what they look like when they are done. Lovely, lovely, lovely. Serve with lots of melted butter and salt. Dip each leaf in the butter and scrape the fleshy part of the artichoke off with your teeth. When you get down to the center, use a spoon to remove the prickly "choke"and throw it out. Do not try to eat it, you will be miserable. (this is said from personal experience) Then dig in to the very best part of the artichoke - the heart. Oh my. Oh my my.

Thank goodness for spring and reasonable prices on such treats. Artichokes and avocados make me wish we lived in California where they are grown, but I'll have to settle for having one once in a while and enjoying them thoroughly. Delicious.

Putting the Exclaimation Mark on The Kitchen Madonna Saga

2010-03-08T08:31:00.003-06:00

Here she is - the famous Kitchen Madonna Statue from our store. I first mentioned her years ago (she's been around awhile!) when "Oscar" noticed her for the first time.

"That thing's obscene!", he railed. To Oscar, the idea of The Blessed Mother wielding a broom was unthinkable. Surely Our Blessed Mother had more heavenly, spiritual things to do while raising Jesus and she certainly NEVER cleaned house. Right? No? Oscar was unconvinced. At least for a while, anyway.

Every week when he came in, he'd mention her. "I just don't get it", he finally gave up. "Well, I think it means that we ordinary people can make even the smallest, most menial job a prayer, following Mary's example" I suggested. "Oh." He thought about that for awhile. "Yeah. I see that."

Slowly but surely, Oscar began a tendresse for our Kitchen Madonna. He has threatened to buy her from time to time, but still she stood patiently on our shelf, waiting.

Then Oscar met a young couple at Adoration. They are getting married this month. Oscar asked if it were possible to give him a discount on the Kitchen Madonna since she has been around awhile. He'd like to give the couple a wedding gift. I asked. I was told that I could give him a discount on her. He thought about it for several more weeks and then last week, he bought her.

"I hope they (the nearly-weds) love her as much as I do." said Oscar.

Isn't that a nice ending to this story?

Hello Sarah?

2010-03-03T08:38:00.002-06:00

We've been doing a lot of thinking about our land line phone lately. Twice earlier this year, we lost our phone service due to aged wiring outside. It was days before we realized that we had no service. It was nice. No interruptions at dinner. No soliciting phone calls. No election phone calls (it went out just before our primary. Good timing).

Do we really need a land line? I know that lots of people just use their cell phones. We all have a cell, except for Becky. Right now, she is the reason we have the land line. Also, we get our DSL service through the phone company and it is required that you have a land line. However, our cell phone provider also provides wireless service, so.....I think our land line will go the way of the phone operator.

What about you? Do you still have a land line? Why or why not? If you don't, do you get "junk" calls on your cell? How do you avoid using too many minutes? My mom doesn't like to call me on my cell because she worries about using too many minutes. Even though she lives 2 miles away, when one of us calls the other, we end up on the phone for at least a half an hour.

I think this fall, when Emily no longer needs to be on our plan, we'll add Becky and ditch the home phone. I think I'll be glad.

One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other

2010-02-26T08:14:00.001-06:00

One of these things just doesn't belong.

No Turning Back A Witness To Mercy

2010-02-21T17:35:00.002-06:00

I just finished reading "No Turning Back - A Witness to Mercy" by Father Donald H. Calloway, MIC, which I received for free from the Catholic Company in return for my review.

The book begins with a classic on foot chase through a Japanese train station as the good guys set up and pursue the bad guys. In this case, one of the bad guys was Donnie Calloway, a 15 year old thief and drug user. He was the king-pin of a group of boys who robbed the Japanese town surrounding an American Naval base where their fathers were stationed. After being caught and arrested, Donnie escapes briefly by running out of the door and into some deep woods. To avoid the dogs that were sent out after him, Donnie hides in a drain pipe. Somewhat ironically, it is full of raw sewage. How metaphorical! After he is caught, he is deported and spends some time in rehab.

After an unsuccessful stint in rehab, Donnie is back to his old tricks. Drugs, alcohol and girls are the only things he cares about. Running away, getting arrested for stealing a case of beer, stealing a car and money - all of these things were not uncommon for Donnie. He became a Grateful Dead groupie, following the group from show to show, reveling in the drugs and the sex available among the followers. By his own admission, he was bad to the bone.

Eventually, the money ran out and he was on the lam from the law. He had no choice but to go back home. Hardly a model son, his parents take him back in. During his absence, they have become Catholics and Donnie rolls his eyes at their devotion. He doesn't understand it. He resents it.

One night, bored and restless, he goes into his parents bedroom, looking for something to do. He picks up a book. His intent is only to look at the pictures, but he finds himself intrigued. It's a book about the apparitions at Medugorje. The whole thing is foreign to him, but he begins to read and study. He reads all night and by morning, he is on fire. When his mother gets up, he insists that he HAS to talk to a Catholic priest and it has to be NOW. Marveling at the change in her son, his mother makes a phone call. The priest agrees to an appointment later in the day, but Donnie insists that he can't wait. Taking his mother up on her suggestion to visit the Catholic chaplain on base, Donnie takes off running. Long haired, scraggly and dressed in the clothes he wore the day before, the priest is not sure what to make of his young man who insists that he HAS to become Catholic NOW. The priest invites him to the Mass that he will be celebrating soon and an entire new world opens up for Donnie. He returns day after day to talk to the priest and to learn. He begins his study in order to join the Church. His former life now only a memory, Donnie soon understands that he is being called to the priesthood. Because of his love for Mary, the mother of God, he investigates orders devoted to her and chooses The Congregation of Marians of the Immaculate Conception of the Most Blessed Virgin Mary. They agree to accept him and thus begins his 10 year road to the priesthood. Because of his former lifestyle, he needs to begin by earning a high school diploma. After the GED, he begins college classes and then seminary. He is now a priest and travels the world telling his conversion story to parishes, schools, prisons, etc.

I enjoyed the book. Roughly 2/3 of the book deals with his hell-raising days, in order to impress upon the reader how bad he was and how great God's mercy is. The only criticism I have with the book is that any lasting effects of his drug and alcohol use and his addiction to pornography are glossed over. It is is as if that night marked the end of all of that. There is no discussion of the pull of those addictions and there is very little discussion on the reactions of his former friends. Did they try to change his mind? Did they tempt him with drugs in order to get him back? It is as if they just shrugged their collective shoulders and left him behind as they went on with their lives. He does mention that he is as tempted as any other man, maybe more as Satan knows his weaknesses. How he deals with those temptations would have been instructive.

It's a good book and a great story. It left me wanting to know more about this man and his incredible journey. Thank you to the Catholic Company for the opportunity to read and review this book.

Get Your Kicks

2010-02-20T18:26:00.002-06:00

Someday I'd like to start in Chicago and follow Route 66 it's entire length.

Route 66 runs through our town, although I have to say there isn't much of interest here. Some towns in Illinois have made the Route 66 connection a tourist attraction. For instance, this cute gas station in Dwight, Illinois has been refurbished to it's 1940's best. Just down the road in Pontiac is the Route 66 museum, which we toured last summer. Lexington, Il has Memory Lane, a one mile stretch of the mother road complete with Burma Shave signs. Tiny Towanda even has a stretch set aside. South of us, in Atlanta, they have one of the muffler men holding a giant hot dog. And so it continues.

I'd like to travel the road, not for the scenery, but because of these attractions. They give us a little glimpse into the not-too-distant past and let us imagine what life was like in what we believe to be simpler times. It's a slice of kitschy Americana at it's best. I find it fascinating.

Cold Comfort

2010-02-18T16:49:00.002-06:00

On a day like this, with the snow clinging to the branches of our lilac bushes and the wind blowing, you need something comforting.

Like a nice hot cup of chai in my favorite chipped mug. It makes the cold and snow seem worthwhile.

Ah winter. It's not so bad, really.

As Lent Begins

2010-02-17T08:41:00.004-06:00

This prayer was the prayer for today in "The Maginificat Lenten Companion". I really felt that this capsulizes the whole meaning of Lent. I hope it will help you along your Lenten journey.

Father, I am so afraid of the impossible desires of my heart, and am so tempted to settle for what is comfortable. Show me your Son, the answer to my heart, so that I may always have courage to risk for what my heart is made for.

Father Tim's Catholic Cousin

2010-02-11T16:41:00.002-06:00

A few years ago, I picked up the first book in Jan Karon's Mitford series at the library and was instantly drawn in by the warm characters, the sometimes funny situations and the cozy atmosphere of Mitford. I read all the books and eventually even bought my own set of them.

Last week, while in the library looking for something to read, this book caught my eye. I glanced at the book jacket quickly and figured, "why not?" I began reading it yesterday evening and finished up this afternoon. This book begins a series of books that take place in Dorsetville, Ct and center around the parish of St Cecilia and is written by Katherine Valentine.

These books are the Catholic equivalent of the Mitford books. The characters are loveable and quirky. The town is small and filled with people you can relate to. Father James is the pastor of St Cecilia's and boy, does he have problems! The old furnace keeps going out at the church and things are so jerry-rigged that it's a fire hazard. The parish can't afford to replace it due to the aging of its parishioners and the fact that the town is in an economic slump. Father Keene, the elderly priest in residence has been having some aging issues of his own and something needs to be done. On Ash Wednesday, Father James is summoned to the Archbishop's and is given the news that St Cecilia's will to be closed due to economic issues and that Father James needs to find a nursing home to care for Father Keene, all by Easter.

The ensuing Lent brings several surprises and miracles for the parish of St Cecilia's, including a missing priest, a conversion, an emotional change of heart, a bone marrow donor, and a Marian apparition. Everything is nicely tied up at the end and I have to admit, I am looking forward to reading more.

I am sure that the author was influenced by Jan Karon's books, in fact, in one scene, a character is mentioned to be reading "At Home In Mitford". Great literature, it's not, but a pleasant read and lots of fun.

I Have Swimsuit Issue Issues

2010-02-11T08:46:00.003-06:00

The other morning I was listening to our local talk radio station while I surfed other people's blogs. They were talking about the (in)famous Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. Apparently in an ad for the issue, there is some small print that alerts subscribers that they can opt out of that issue and extend their subscription accordingly. The men on the radio agreed that there were some men who might want to do that - those with small children perhaps who need to be sheltered from those images for a few years yet. And maybe if a wife had subscribed to SI for her honey, SHE might want to pass by that issue. I don't believe these guys had any idea that some men might want to by pass the issue for other reasons.

Now, it's no secret that the SI Swimsuit Issue has very little to do with fashion. And it's not geared towards women, unless perhaps their orientation is skewed. It's (soft)porn geared towards titillating men. I put "soft" in parenthesis because that definition seems to be redefined every year. Body paint, carefully arranged long hair and sand often cover parts of the body that are best covered by clothing. This years soft porn could very well have been censored last year.

It's is also no secret that men are very visual and the sight of scantily dressed women is very appealing. I get that. We all get that. Most men, perhaps even "good" men, are willing to give in and look if given the opportunity. I'll admit that it's hard not to. I mean, I saw last year's issue along side the checkout lanes of my local grocery store. The cover was quite eye-catching. How could you not look?

However, I believe that there are men out there who would not want that issue in the house, and not just to protect children or to protect the sensibilities of their wives. There are men who know that the swimsuit issue and other men's magazines are exploitation. They exploit the women who gladly and proudly pose for them. They exploit the men that the magazines are geared for by reducing them to nothing but sexual beings who can't help themselves and I believe that they also exploit women in general by making women into nothing more than eye candy.

There are men who also are very much aware of sin. Yes, sin. It's not a word that is used very often anymore. We are hesitant to speak of sin because we might offend someone by insinuating that their "lifestyle" is sinful and really, how dare we judge anyone else?? But there are men who understand that by viewing images like those published in the Swimsuit Issue, that they are sinning. They are endangering their souls by looking at these nearly naked women. They know that by looking at the pictures, they would be using those women for their own pleasure with no thought to the woman as a person. She is only a body. They are perhaps aware that they would be using their wives as some sort of surrogate for the models in the magazine,and not loving their wives for themselves. There are men who know that it is wrong. They have developed their morals and take that very seriously. They would want to opt out of the issue in order to protect themselves and others. That's admirable, but perhaps it's incomprehensible by the world at large.

And to me, that's very sad.

Amelia

2010-02-04T06:43:00.004-06:00

I'll be filling in a bunch of blanks in this story with conjecture. I don't know what really happened. The only person involved in this story who is still living was far, far too young to remember any details.

It was February 1916. On a small farm in north central Iowa, Amelia was in labor. Nineteen years old, a petite brunette with dark eyes, this wasn't her first baby. She and her husband Jim had two year old Harold, chubby and mischievous. Now they were going to add to their family. Another boy or a girl this time? Only time would tell.

Amelia was of Swiss origin. Her husband was all Irish, with red curly hair and twinkling eyes. Hard working, devout and honest, life on the farm wasn't easy, but the land was good and rich and the work was beginning to pay off. Their family was growing with the promise of more children to come. The children would help with farm chores and perhaps one of them would want to carry on the family farm sometime in the future. Life was good.

Soon little Anna Marie was born, named "Anna" after her grandmother. A beautiful baby, she would always be called "Marie". But something was very wrong, not with baby Marie, but with Amelia. Perhaps she was hemorrhaging. Maybe an infection set in. But something happened and it was very bad. Two weeks later, nineteen year old Amelia was dead, leaving behind two small children and a bereft young husband. The promise of the large farm family was dead as well.

How exactly Jim managed is unknown to me. I do know that his brother and sister-in-law moved to the farm to help with the work and the children. Uncle John and Aunt Mary helped to raise Harold and Marie. When Marie was on the brink of her teenage years, Jim remarried. Gladys never had children of her own, but she loved her two step-children deeply and reveled in their children and grandchildren.

Now 94 years later, Marie just celebrated her birthday with her family. She is a great-great grandmother with a lively personality. She is my grandmother. As we celebrate her birthday and her life, I find myself thinking about Amelia. None of us ever knew her. She died so very young and in such a tragic, but certainly not uncommon way. How would life had been different if she lived? Would my extended family have been larger? Was she called "Amelia" or did she go by "Amy"? What was she like? Quiet? Vivacious? Artistic? Practical? I'll never know.

And to be honest, I miss her.

I'm Getting Old

2010-02-02T08:58:00.003-06:00

Back in my youth, I loved to keep busy. I'd make sure I was in lots of organizations so that I'd have meetings almost every day of the week. Even back in the days of being a stay-at-home -mom, I'd look forward to meetings so that I could get out and see people. Now that I'm verging on elderly, I'd like nothing better than to stay at home and read or play on the computer. However, this week is packed with stuff to do, for me, for Jim, for Becky. I don't think there is a night this week that we will all be home with nothing to do.

Boredom is starting to look good.

Aggravation

2010-01-30T15:10:00.002-06:00

This picture has nothing to do with my post except for the word "aggravation". I just thought it was cute.

Disclaimer out of the way. Here we go:

I usually work on Saturdays. It's not a bad thing except that since my husband and daughter are usually home on Saturday, we don't get a chance to do anything together. I've worked so many Saturdays in a row that I really wanted to have one off, just to sleep in if nothing else. Today was my opportunity.

I did sleep in. That was nice. Then I discovered why it isn't really that bad to spend my Saturdays working.

We needed a new coffeemaker. Ours is several years old and has taken to spitting hot water out the side of the pot while the coffee is brewing. This is not a good thing. We finally decided to replace it. I looked at the discount stores yesterday as well as the mega kitchen store and found nothing I really liked (that we could afford). Today while looking at an ad online, I discovered the perfect coffeemaker on sale at the mall. It was an early bird sale and ended at 1:00 pm today, so I hopped in the van and headed to the dreaded mall. (I don't like to shop). There are a couple of different ways to get there and for some reason I chose the back way. This way has a wacky intersection involved. Most of the time, this is a bit of an annoyance, but on weekends, it is simple insane. This intersection involves a six lane highway, two frontage roads and the roads that cross them. I have been convinced for sometime that the man who designed it ought to have to spend his purgatory navigating that intersection. Perhaps those of us who drive it regularly will avoid purgatory entirely, having completed our purgatory during life. Anyway, this intersection involves a 3 way stop sign and then, almost immediately, a stoplight. I was behind an elderly couple at the stop sign who had no idea how to proceed through the intersection. They stopped and stayed stopped. And stayed stopped and stayed stopped and stayed stopped. Eventually they cautiously proceeded forward. I was frustrated. I mean, you can't honk at old people. I couldn't even blame them for not knowing what to do. It is a crazy intersection. If you drive it regularly, it becomes almost easy, but if you don't know it, it's hard. It's a little thing, but it did make me aggravated.

From there, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few items. I ended up with four items and went to get in line. This particular store has several self-check lines along with the traditional check-outs. Now, I will admit that the self-check lanes have no limit, yet most people use them if they have less than twenty items. However in one lane was a lady with a shopping cart heaped to overflowing with stuff. Every other lane had 4-5 people in line and no one was behind this lady. I decided that I'd just go behind her. How bad could it be?

Bad, really bad. Stuff just keep coming out of her cart. But hey, I knew that she had a lot of stuff when I got in line. I could handle that. Finally she finished scanning her groceries. Then all of her stuff was piled at the bottom of the check lane waiting for her to bag it. I began scanning my four items, beginning with a 10 lb bag of potatoes. Grocery lady's head popped up and she began to yell at me. "Please don't start with your groceries until I am done bagging my groceries. You'll just mess me up." Well, since I only had 4 items and I began with the potatoes with the idea that it's hard to miss a 10 lb bag of potatoes. They would provide a natural division between her stuff and mine. Well, I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I scanned my stuff and replaced it in my cart, paid for it and squeezed past her while she still was bagging her month's worth of bagels and milk etc. She gave ME a nasty look. Now as I said, there is no limit on the self-check lanes, but common sense would dictate not using them when you have a huge amount of groceries, especially when an alternative exists. Secondly, to make me the villian for wanting to pay for my food and not wait for her to bag her groceries was just nuts. Even if you go to a cashier, they will often ring up the next customer while the bagger is taking care of the last person. And since I ended up replacing my items in the cart after I scanned them, she really wasn't inconvenienced at all.

Ok. I think I'm done now.

Thanks for letting me vent.

Things to Think About

2010-01-24T11:49:00.002-06:00

A friend of mine recently shared that she had lost her cat. This well-loved pet was 18 years old and had been showing the effects of age and it died last week in her arms. My friend was horribly upset at losing her long-time companion and rightly so. This cat had been with her through the growing up years of her children and had been there when her husband and some friends decided to begin a business. The cat had been there throughout her illnesses and in good times too. I tried to comfort her by telling her that at least her cat died knowing that she was loved.

That got me thinking about the victims of the Haitian earthquake. Most of them died horribly and horribly alone, buried under tons of rubble. Some, perhaps most, of the deaths were mercifully quick - they probably never knew what had happened. Others, however, died slow painful deaths being crushed to death by chunks of concrete and wooden beams. Were they able to die knowing that they were loved? They were denied the sort of comfort that my friend's cat knew in her last minutes. They died fighting for every breath and yet knowing that every breath brought more pain. Searing pain and raging thirst competed with agonized, silent, pleas for help. Alone, they died in excruciating misery. No loving human hand tenderly brushed back their hair and tried to convey the depth of love that was being felt. No cup of water was held to their parched lips in an attempt to ease the inevitable.

I have been thinking about the contrast of the death of the pampered pet and the horrific deaths of our brothers and sisters. I have been praying that in their last minutes, their last seconds of life, that they knew of God's love and of His comfort and that they embraced Him as lovingly as He wanted to embrace them.

Keep the people of Haiti in your prayers.

Life and Death

2010-01-17T13:48:00.003-06:00

A life and death drama played out in our back yard sometime last night. The victor was probably an owl or a hawk. The loser probably a rabbit. I noticed the evidence this morning as I stood at my kitchen sink.
The tracks in the snow suggest that the victim tried to dodge his killer and perhaps there was a struggle earlier that he escaped from, however briefly.

Why do I feel sorry for the poor thing? The darn rabbits eat everything we plant and I spend all summer cursing them and joking about eating a fresh basil infused rabbit and yet, this bothers me.

I hope it was quick.

But then again. . . . . way to go , Owl!

Bon appetit.

willie's wagon

2010-01-03T19:41:00.001-06:00

willie's wagon
Originally uploaded by Pop Elegantiarum

When I was a kid, every now and then as a treat, my Dad would get the most scrumptious hamburgers in the world from this little trailer. Willie's Wee-Nee Wagon was one of those things that made living in the Chicago area unique. Set (as I remember) diagonally on a corner lot with a couple of picnic tables near by, you drove up, stood in line at the window and were handed a sack of the best hamburgers in the world. Large, meaty and crowned with the thickest, sweetest slice of onion on the planet, Willie's hamburgers are still the standard by which I compare all other burgers. None have ever come even close. I miss the place. Perhaps not gourmet dining, but certainly delicious and very memorable.

En milieu

2010-01-02T20:04:00.003-06:00

Have you ever read a book and have gotten so involved that when you looked up from the printed page, you were almost shocked that it wasn't bitter winter on the prairie or that you weren't on a fire escape in a tenement in turn of the century Brooklyn? Those books actually transport you to another place or time. I think those are my favorite kinds of books. Those books are books that you can read over and over again and never tire of. I'm convinced that those places actually exist somewhere, peopled by my favorite characters. I know that Jane Eyre is listening somewhere on the Yorkshire Moors as Mr Rochester calls for her miles away. Meanwhile in the Yorkshire dales, James Herriot woos the beautiful Helen Alderson as Tristan drinks away the evening in the Drover's Arms. Laura and Mary Ingalls play on the open prairie as their honest, hard-working parents try to scrape a living from the harsh land. Francie Nolan and her brother await the sound of their father Johnny as he comes up the stairs singing, "Molly Malone" after a night of being a singing waiter. Katie Nolan tries to smooth her hair with her work-roughened hands before her handsome, drunken husband comes home. Caddie Woodlawn stands stunned in her dining room as the nuts roll around on the floor after she dropped the corners of her apron in her surprise at seeing the circuit rider eating with the family. The All-of-A-Kind Family girls ready their home for the Sabbath and find pennies that their mother hid while they are dusting. You can taste the sour Kosher pickle and see the golden candle light as Mother sings the Sabbath blessing. You know what the orange marmalade cake that Father Tim isn't supposed to eat must taste like and you don't blame him a bit for eating it anyway. You chuckle at Barnabas, the dog who like to listen to Scripture. These things really happen - at least in some corner of my mind they do. While most milieu books are novels or at least fictionalized versions of what happened, sometimes a non-fiction book will transport you as well. I'm convinced that somewhere, Julia Child is browning the top of a dessert with her blow-torch and wiping off dropped potatoes to serve for her guests. She's trussing a chicken and pureeing the livers for a pate. Somewhere in the dusty corners of my mind, she's there, with Jane and Edward and the crazy Blanche. Siegfried charms the ladies and Tricki-Woo goes flop-bott yet again. Laura savors her Christmas stick of candy and Caddie crosses the river with her clothes bundled on top of her head. Sarah and her sisters talk in bed and eat penny candy. Francie and Neely take another load of rags to the rag man for their penny. Father Tim listens to the conversation at the diner. Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy wait for Marmee and all is well.

The Mass A Guided Tour

2009-12-28T09:51:00.003-06:00

The newest book sent to me by The Catholic Company for review is The Mass A Guided Tour by Thomas Richstatter O.F.M. S.T.D..

This book is a pilgrimage to the Mass. It has been said that you never really return from a pilgrimage and that is the hope here. This book will be a transforming experience and the person who began it will not be the same person who ends the book.

Fr. Richstatter guides us through the mass using four mysteries: Christmas, Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter. He also uses four movements: Gathering, Storytelling, Meal Sharing and Commissioning.

We begin at Christmas with the mystery of the Incarnation. We celebrate the goodness of all creation in the Mass.

When we visit Holy Thursday, we learn that the Eucharist is both a sacrifice and a meal. We become transformed by the body and blood of Christ into the body and blood of Christ.

In Good Friday, we learn that the sacrifice of the crucifixion is love. By placing ourselves at the foot of the cross, we practice "animnesis" or liturgical remembering. We enter into the mystery of God's plan. We become present to the mystery, the mystery does not become present to us.

On Easter Sunday, we learn that we cannot separate the body of Christ which we are, from the body of Christ on the altar. As the Franciscan Murry Bodo wrote, " Jesus manifests himself in people, not in churches".

The second part of our tour takes us on the road to Emmaus. If you remember the story, the disciples gathered together on the way with the "stranger", they told stories and recalled scripture, they shared a meal ( in which they recognized Jesus in the breaking of the bread), and then they left in joy to share the Good News. This is the Mass.

The Gathering elements of the Mass include the sign of the cross, holy water, song, greeting, silence and prayer. We come to realize that the Mass is not a private devotion, but a communal, community celebration.

The Storytelling portion of the Mass includes the reading of scripture, the homily. As St Jerome said, "Ignorance of the Bible is ignorance of Christ". You cannot remember someone you have never met. This part of the Mass also includes the homily, the creed and general intercessions. God's word is present and living in the context of our lives. We become present (anamnesis) to the event we are celebrating.

The meal sharing component of the Mass is of course the Eucharist. First we set the table by the presentation of the gifts. Then we say grace with the Eucharistic prayer. Liturgical prayer is the voice of Christ - head and members - addressed to God the Father in the Holy Spirit. In Epiclesis, the church asks God to send his Holy Spirit on the bread and the wine so that by his power they become the body and blood of Christ and so that we may become one body and one spirit.

In the meal sharing aspect of the Mass, we pray the Lord's Prayer and ask forgiveness. we offer one another a sign of peace and reconciliation. Table fellowship implies fellowship with God.

In commissioning, we are sent forth to announce to the Good News to the world. The word "Mass" is derived from the Latin phrase "Ite missa est" or simply "Go!" Remembering that the Eucharist is a sacrament of humble service should help us in our mission to God's people.

The Mass A Guided Tour was informative and easy to read. Fr. Richstatter has many insights into the Mass that I found exciting and helpful. This book made me look at the Mass a little differently. I recommend it.

Life is Just Funny Sometimes

2009-11-23T20:26:00.002-06:00

I got a phone call last night from the mom of one of Becky's friends who wanted my potato salad recipe. Her daughter told her that I made the best potato salad and that's what she wanted for Thanksgiving. In fact, I could hear her daughter in the background while we talked on the phone telling me that she would PAY me if I made her a bowl of potato salad! I don't really have a recipe for it because it is just too simple - potato, maybe some boiled egg, mayo, mustard, onion, celery and salt and pepper. I just sort of wing it until it looks and tastes right. My family likes it. So anyway, I start telling Mrs C what I do. When I got done, she asked if I used real mayonnaise. Yes, I do. Well, she says, I can't do that. I have high cholesterol, so I'll just leave that out. Ummm, okaaay. Then she asked me if put lemon juice in it. No, I don't. But she likes lemon juice so she thinks that she'll put that in. She asked me about the amount of onion. We like onion, so we put quite a bit in. Her husband won't eat onion, so she is going to leave that out too, but she can't wait to make my potato salad recipe - minus the mayo and the onion and with lemon juice. It'll be just like mine, except for the crucial ingredients that she is leaving out and the addition she is putting in. Practically identical.

A little boy at work was so excited to see the big picture of Mary that is hanging on the wall behind our register. "Look Mommy" He pointed excitedly, "See the Godmother!" Amazing how this child understands the whole concept of Theotokos.

Today I had an elderly lady who was wanting a statue of St Benedict. All we had was a small pewter statue and that wasn't good enough. I offered to look in some catalogs to see if we could order one. None of our suppliers offer a St. Benedict statue. I showed her the catalogs and was apologetic. Then she asked if "that man" (my boss) was there. Yes, he was, but he was on the phone. Well, she said. I'd rather talk to him. You don't know what you are doing and HE does. Truthfully, he does know more about his business than I do and that is only natural. However, we cannot sell an item that isn't being made. She got out a holy card of St Benedict and said"See! This is what he looks like!" with the implication that now that I know, I should be able to find a statue somewhere. I am pretty familiar with St Benedict and wouldn't mind a statue of him myself. But if they aren't made, they aren't made. St Benedict wall crosses we have. St Benedict cross necklaces we have. Books on Benedictine spirituality we have and books on St Benedict and St Scholastica we have. And we have a pewter statue. She left the store totally disgusted with my stupidity.

Today Becky brought home a letter and two cards for a certain national brand of sugar coated, deep fried doughnuts. For her 8th grade trip, we are to sell these cards for $10.00 Then you will be able to walk into one of their stores, purchase one dozen of these fat-drenched goodies and take another dozen of them home for FREE! Because what family couldn't use 24 of these little golden delights to send you on your way to a diabetic coma. Seriously - two dozen of them??? At once? If you don't sell 18 (!!!) of them, you can buy your way out for $90.00(!!!) Now, if they were being sold to fund a mission trip or a project (such as Habitat for Humanity), well, ok. I could see that. But they are being sold to send mostly upper middle class teens to Great America. @@ Oh my. But I'm NOT bitter over this. Really. How could I be? There is too much sugar involved to be bitter.

Just A Word To The Wise

2009-11-22T13:57:00.003-06:00

Just so you know, I moderate comments for a reason. I will NOT publish any comments that are trying to sell prescription drugs or that link to an unknown website. Don't even try.

The sad thing is that the people who try this won't even read this blog and probably have never read this blog. They are just spreading the spam indiscriminately. It really irritates me.

Anyone else have this problem?

Apostle of the Exiled

2009-11-21T17:59:00.002-06:00

My latest review for The Catholic Company is Apostle of the Exiled: St. Damien of Molokai by Margaret and Matthew Bunson. I found it to be an interesting book.

Prior to reading this book, here is what I knew about Damien of Molokai:
1. He was a priest
2. In Hawaii
3. He worked at a leper colony
4. He got sick and died.
That perhaps is a little simplistic, but it is a fairly accurate summation of my knowledge. However, I was always interested in his story so I jumped at the chance to review this book.

The book begins with a little background about Catholic missions in Polynesia in general and in Hawaii, specifically. Catholics were looked down upon in the early days of American occupation of the Hawaiian islands. Protestant missionaries were welcomed, but Catholic missionaries were kept out - literally. Ships were not allowed to dock and it took a brave French sea captain to change all that. He threatened war, with the backing of the French government, if ships carrying Catholic priests were turned back. Grudgingly, the American backed Hawaiian government acquiesced.

Joseph de Veuster was born in Belgium, the seventh child of a farming family. His elder brother, Auguste, became a priest and young Joseph wanted to follow in his footsteps. A problem arose, however, in that while Joseph was very strong, he wasn't believed to be very bright. Joseph had to prove himself to his superiors by learning Latin in a short time, as taught by his brother. He was finally allowed to begin his studies.

His brother, Father Pamphile (Auguste) was to be sent on a mission to Hawaii when he became quite ill and was unable to make the trip. Joseph, now known as Damien, volunteered to take his place.

Damien landed in Hawaii in 1864 after a four month voyage at sea. On arrival, he continued his studies and was finally ordained a priest in May of 1864. His first assignment was as an assistant to a veteran missionary. He was an indefatigable worker, beginning building projects, making candles, growing tobacco, etc. He also worked hard spiritually with his parishioners, often suffering bouts of depression as he tried to control demonstrations of lust or drunkenness among the people. However the experience helped him to grow spiritually and to become the missionary that was needed there.

In 1865, the island of Molokai was named as the spot for the new leprosarium. As in Biblical times, leprosy (Hansen's Disease) was misunderstood and feared. Very contagious, it was felt that it was best to isolate the victims of the disease to protect those who were well. In Hawaii, this meant forcibly separating victims from their homes and families (including children) and dumping them on the island of Molokai in an isolated location. There they would live out their lives as best they could and it was hoped that this would halt the spread of the disease. When Father Damien was first assigned to the leper colony at Molokai, the people lived a lawless life. The weak were taken advantage of by the stronger in every way. Father Damien was aghast and set out to change things. He built buildings, nursed the sick, buried the dead and pastored his flock. Slowly but surely, things began to improve. Now treated as human beings and children of God, the lepers began treating each other better. Father Damien became well-loved. Not afraid of hard work, he single-handedly changed the law-less leper colony into a place of dignity and respect. While he worked, he also wrote letters to his family and his superiors in Belgium. These letters were published and thus, his work gained him much notoriety. In turn, his fame made others jealous. Father Damien was accused of all manner of crimes against humanity by certain members of the Protestant clergy. No less a personage than Robert Louis Stevenson came publicly to his defense. But Father Damien didn't just have to deal with criticism from outside of his faith, he also had to deal with those within the Catholic Church who found him to be rude, crude and lacking in the social niceties. Even his immediate superiors in Hawaii were not always on his side. Father Damien continued to do his work on Molokai, often laboring into the night, catching a few hours of sleep and then starting up again in the morning. This continued even after Father Damien became ill with leprosy himself. In order to effectively deal with his sick parishioners, Father Damien never quailed when it came to nursing the sick or helping to change their dressings. He knew that he was putting himself at risk to catch the disease, but he didn't allow the fear to get in the way of his vocation. When he became ill, he continued to work. He knew that this time was limited and that he had much he needed to get done. Thankfully, he was provided with an able assistant with the arrival of Brother Joseph Dutton, who was cut from the same hard-working cloth as Father Damien.

On April 15, 1889, Father Damien de Veuster died of Hansen's Disease on the Hawaiian island of Molokai. His beloved parishioners lovingly buried their priest and the world mourned his passing. Later, his body was moved from Molokai to his home country of Belgium. Over 100n years later, he would be canonized as a saint in the Catholic Church.

The leper colony on Molokai is now a part of the National Park System. Hansen's Disease is now treatable with multi-drug therapy and a leper colony is no longer needed. Those who still live in the colony are those who spent their entire lives on Molokai. They are allowed to remain through their lifetimes.

I highly recommend this book. I learned so much and was fascinated by the story of this complicated and highly spiritual man. Thank you to The Catholic Company for providing this book to me to review.

Why We Need New Carpet

2009-11-12T12:43:00.002-06:00

Any questions?

You'll Be Proud of Me

2009-11-04T19:58:00.004-06:00

And I'll get to the reason for your pride soon. But first, let me tell you what I did today.

Today I was one of the chaperons for the 8th grade trip to Springfield, Il in advance of the state-mandated Constitution test next week. I was one of 8 chaperons along with two teachers and over 50 8th graders. And we all made it home alive. But that's not why you will be proud of me.

We started out at Abraham Lincoln's house. It started out as a one and a half story cottage with a couple of rooms down and a sleeping loft up. As Lincoln's fortunes grew, so did his family and his house. It grew into a 3000 sq ft home with three bedrooms and a room for the hired girl as well. I think this makes the 4th or 5th time I've toured Lincoln's house, but that's not reason you should be proud of me either.
Our next stop was the totally awesome Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Musuem. Here is my group of girls posing with the Lincoln family in front of the White House. I had never been here before as it is a relatively new attraction, but I am definitely coming back! The displays are incredible and there are many authentic Lincoln artifacts on display as well. My favorite area was the "Ghosts of the Library" theater. It is a holographic show with (I think) one live actor. He could have been a hologram too, for all I know. It was an amazing show with lots of pizazz that appeals to kids like me. But that's not why you should be proud of me either.
Now here comes the reason you will be proud of me. I am proud of me too. Remember this post? The one where I spill my guts about my irrational, illogical fear of heights, particularly in buildings with rotundas? That one? Well, our last stop was the state capitol building. We toured it about 3 years ago and I was a mess. I thought I was going to pass out or have a heart attack or something. All day today I was praying that I wouldn't make a fool out of myself there today in front of all of Becky's classmates and teachers. We got through security and waited in line for our tour guide. In the meantime, one of the teachers could not find her cell phone. She had had it when we went through security because she had put it in the tray. I called it for her, but it was on silent mode and she couldn't hear it. While she looked frantically for her phone, she asked ME if I could lead the kids up the stairs to the 4th floor so we could begin our tour. I smiled weakly at her and agreed. How ironic is that? She asks the one chaperon with the pathological fear of heights to take the kids up. She told me to go slowly and I nearly told her that I would have no choice in the matter. I would be on my hands and knees crawling up and you can't go too fast that way. So I swallowed, said another prayer and led the little darlings up to the tippy-top of the capitol building. I did it! I'll admit to sweaty palms and a racing heart, but I did it! I even made it back down the stairs too. I never went to the railing to look over at the floor waaaaaay down there below us. I stayed at the back, hugging the wall,but I don't think anyone would guess the pure, unadulterated terror that dwelt beneath the surface. And that's why you'll be proud of me. I could have won an Academy Award for my performance this afternoon. Oh, and the capitol is a truly beautiful building. And the rotunda is something like 67 feet higher than the one on the capitol building in Washington DC. However, I refused to look up until we were back on ground level. :O

Need Ideas

2009-10-28T07:55:00.002-05:00

This past summer, my husband was diagnosed with fructose malabsorption. His score on the test was the second highest the doctor had ever seen, so he's got it bad. Basically this means that his digestive system cannot handle fructose, which is fruit sugar. I'm sure you've all heard the controversy regarding high fructose corn syrup. It's in just about every processed food. But this diet is about more than just avoiding high fructose corn syrup. He also needs to avoid most fruits, a lot of veggies and he needs to watch his flour consumption. Sweet foods are out. Artificially sweetened foods are out. Honey, molasses and maple syrup are out. Spicy foods are to be avoided. Salads are out. Are you getting the picture here? We are down to eating meat and potatoes and a few veggies. It's hard to plan meals. I am getting frustrated. So far he has done ok with carrots and corn, which are some of the veggies which are questionable. Onions are bad. We've done roasts, meatloaves, hamburgers, chicken and pork, but it is the side dishes that stump me. I am tired of potatoes (which can't be "dressed up" because the spices and flavorings may upset his stomach). Jim doesn't much care for rice. Pasta is out. Noodles are out. I've tried rice noodles/pasta and that didn't go over too well. Bread is pretty much out, so no muffins, biscuits, corn bread, garlic bread etc. HELP ME! What else can I do? Suggest some side dishes which are tasty, simple and avoid the troublesome foods.

You Know You Are a Grown-up When . . . .

2009-10-26T15:13:00.003-05:00

You know that you are a grown-up when:

You WANT to be sent to your room.

You actually like brussel sprouts.

Sometimes you just HAVE to clean something.

You look forward to being sick just so you can lay around and do nothing all day and no one will complain.

You have to make dinner even when you don't feel like eating it.

You COULD eat an entire pan of brownies, but you don't.

You help your child with their math homework even if you don't understand it.

You know the doorbell isn't for you.

You could ask a child to do a certain chore, but it's just easier to do it yourself.

Everyone looks to you for the solution to a problem.

Your parents ask you for advice.

You are no longer carded when you buy a bottle of wine.

Middle aged people call you "Ma'am."

You think that someone needs to rake the lawn and you realize that you are that "someone."

If you blow off an assignment, you don't just flunk - you could end up in very deep trouble.

You realize that if you ran your household like politicians ran the country, you'd be homeless, naked and on foodstamps.

You can't buy that flat panel 1080 TV you'd like because it's more practical to replace your threadbare carpet.

You figure out that you can't spend money twice.

Your credit rating means something to you.

You think more about the hereafter than your possessions.

You look forward to replacing your carpet.

The alarm clock goes off and you know that you have to get up because no one is going to wake you up again if you fall asleep like you want to.

Bed time seems so late!

You get down on the floor to play with a baby and have to plan on how you are going to get back up.

Any more to add to my list? How did you know that you were a grown-up?

Our Weekend Trip

2009-10-25T21:47:00.002-05:00

We took a quick trip to Kansas this weekend. The above picture is the reason. Our daughter Emily was on Homecoming court at Benedictine College. Emily is the girl in the black dress and light gray sweater. We had a nice time. We left Friday afternoon and drove in the dreary drizzle the entire trip. It was cold and miserable. We went to part of a rugby game on Friday night, but it was so cold that even bundled up and with blankets on us, we froze. We met a lot of Emily's friends and heard lots of funny stories of college life though.
Fortunately when we woke up on Saturday, the weather had greatly improved. This picture of the river was taken from our favorite over look on campus. Stunning view. We went to campus and watched the end of the bed races. Each dorm fashions a vehicle of sorts from an old bedframe. Then they start in downtown Atchison. One person steers the bed and it is pushed by 4 (?) others. It's quite a course as it is uphill all the way and let me tell you, those hills are STEEP! It was fun to see. We even got to meet the President of the college, who told us nice things about our daughter. That stuff is always nice to hear.
The sky was a deep, clear blue and the leaves were at their peak on Saturday. It was absolutely beautiful.
I know this is a little weird, but this is on a tree stump between the Abbey and the river overlook and it was loaded with this fungi and moss. It was pretty in an odd way.

We left Kansas in the late afternoon on Saturday and drove home in the drizzle. Funny how that worked out. It was a good trip and it was fun to see Emily in her element. She is going to miss college very much.

Catholic Answers to Common Objections

2009-10-14T19:14:00.002-05:00

The latest product that I have received from The Catholic Company was a copy of the 4 cd set Catholic Answers to Common Objections by Tim Staples. In these cds, Tim Staples covers in detail 19 common questions that Protestants have regarding the Catholic faith. The questions include: Why do Catholics pray to the saints when only God is worthy of worship? (short answer: we don't!!), Why do Catholics call priests "Father" when it says in the Bible to call no man Father? , What about the Catholic position on a just war? Wasn't Jesus a pacifist? and many other questions.

Each question is answered systematically, point by point. Tim Staples is able to answer each question with logic and with quotes from the Bible. He can point out common errors in context and in some cases, times where a certain quasi-Christian sect (like the Jehovah's Witnesses) actually have rewritten parts of the Bible to suit their beliefs. He takes time to cover each nuance of the question until you are left with no choice but to agree with his answer. He is knowledgeable and enthusiastic in his responses.

I particularly liked his answer on the question of Mary's sinlessness. While I knew most of the answer, he also added some things that I had never heard before, leaving me with another "AHA!" moment or two. While I knew that Gabriel's greeting to Mary at the annunciation was important due to the "full of grace" line, I never knew that he actually called her "Full of Grace" as a title. Thus she was renamed, in the same way Abraham and Sarah had been.

As a former Protestant himself, Staples probably had to overcome most of these objections himself in order to convert. His research has served all of us well as I think even the most knowledgeable Catholic will learn something from this set of cd's. My suggestion in listening to these cd's, would be to sit down and just listen straight through the first time to get an overview. Then to go back more slowly and stop the cd player, grab your Bible and read along with him. Take notes. Take only one section at a time and really study it. By the time you are done with all 19 questions, you will really have whetted your appetite for more in-depth learning and you will be ready when your Baptist Uncle Jed visits at Thanksgiving or when the Jehovah Witnesses knock on your door. They'll get more than they bargained for at your house.

If you'd like this cd set or anything else by Tim Staples, visit The Catholic Company or your local Catholic book store. It's worth checking out. I really enjoyed listening to them and thoroughly recommend them.

Oscar Update

2009-10-05T09:11:00.002-05:00

Oscar was in the store on Saturday afternoon, just like usual. He looked so much better. He didn't have to have surgery after all. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and I assume he was put on some new meds. He said he has lost 11 pounds of water from around his heart and lungs. His color was good and he even had some pink in his cheeks. Thank you for the prayers.

Another of my customers is sick. I think I have mentioned Lillie before. She is an elderly woman who just joined the Catholic church last Easter. We've become friends as she studies her new faith and asks questions. She was diagnosed with breast cancer and had surgery last week. She called the store to tell us that she is doing well, but she is still waiting to find out what kind of treatment is still in store for her. Please keep Lillie in your prayers. She's had a hard time of things recently.

Also keep another customer named Kim in your prayers. She is a young woman who is dying of cancer. Her cancer spread to her bones and she is just an inspiration as she has not let it slow her down too much. She only has a day or two left to live. Please pray that her pain is tolerable and her passing easy. Pray also for her husband and children as they will have to adjust to life without this remarkable woman. Thanks.

Being A Grandma

2009-10-02T08:41:00.002-05:00

I've noticed that being a Grandma is totally different than being the Mommy. For one thing, I get a whole lot more sleep. For another, the distance brings observation. When I was the one with the baby, I was so busy with the minute to minute raising of the child that I often didn't have the time to sit back and just watch the wheels turn. Now I can see Kara actively learning everyday. She studies things. In this picture, she was doing her best to grab my nose and was looking at me and was figuring out how to do reach her goal. Later that same day, I was holding her and she reached up to touch my glasses. Not wanting teeny, tiny fingerprints all over the lenses, I put them on top of my head. Kara stared at me for quite some time, then her lower lip started to quiver and she began to cry. The grandma that she knew was gone! I put my glasses back on and she was happy. We stood in front of a mirror and she studied that baby looking back at her. She smiled. She peered. She reached out to touch the baby. Her entire day is an adventure in trying to figure out the world. She has learned so much already. She has learned that smiles are magic. She has learned that when you put your teddy bear in your mouth, someone comes along to take the fuzz off of your lips. She has learned that everyone loves her very much. She has learned that there is no one like Mom. She still has so much to learn, but the lessons that she already knows are priceless.

This Was Too Easy!

2009-10-01T13:47:00.002-05:00

Several years ago, I bought one of those pumpkin jars on clearance for $1.00. For the last few years, I'd buy two bags of candy corn and fill the jar and it would last us all of October and into November. However, changes in my husband's health situation means no more candy corn at our house. So what to do with the pumpkin jar???

Finally it hit me and I took a flying trip to Hobby Lobby where I bought a strand of orange mini-lights. Back home, I started layering the lights and a garland of silk fall leaves(that I already had) into the jar. Nothing fancy, just lights, then leaves, then lights etc until the jar is full. Put the lid on, plug it in and Voila! It's as easy as pie and a whole lot less calories!

I Am A Klutz

2009-09-29T19:32:00.002-05:00

I got gently chided once from a dear friend when I said that I am a klutz. She told me not to put myself down, but if really and truly I AM a klutz, then I am only telling the truth and am not putting myself down, right? Of course right. Because I am a klutz.

I drink a lot of water. I take bottled water with me everywhere. As a result of my salivary gland cancer, my mouth is pretty dry and I drink a lot of water. I am also cheap. I do not BUY bottled water. I buy water bottles and fill them from the tap. Then I stick them in the freezer because I like cold water. As it thaws during the day, I am assured of ice water whenever I sip. And since thawing bottles of ice tend to collect condensation which then leaves damp circles on furniture or flooring, I also wrap my frozen water bottles in some great dish towels that I have. Well, they are not really great dish towels because if you use them to dry dishes, they just tend to push the water around on the damp plate and not really dry them, BUT if you use these towels to wrap up your frozen water bottles, they serve the purpose admirably. They insulate the bottle so that it doesn't thaw too quickly in the summer and they soak up all the condensation. Great towels. I have 6 of them - 3 are blue with white stripes and 3 are white with blue stripes. They are sold as dish towels in a popular department store that sends out coupons for 15, 20 or 30% off and you'd be crazy if you ever paid full price there because whatever you want will be on sale very soon. Anyway they are labeled as dishtowels although as I said, they don't do a very good job of drying dishes, but I suppose if they were labeled as good for wrapping up frozen water bottles, no one would buy them.

So anyway, I got out my big frozen pink 32 oz water bottle this morning and wrapped it up in a white towel with blue stripes and set it on my counter in preparation for leaving to spend the day with my granddaughter. As I was getting ready to leave, I grabbed the towel and turned to leave. That was a tactical error. I should have grabbed the bottle. Instead the bottle filled with 32 oz of frozen water fell of the counter and landed smack on my big toe. It hurt. It still does. My toe is not broken, just really sore. . . and contused. I've got it taped to the little piggy who stayed home and it feels better. Only thing is, I couldn't find our first aid tape, so I taped it with bright blue masking tape. It works, I guess.

So within the past 6 weeks, I've sliced my hand open on plastic wrap (ok, the cutting edge of the box, but I LIKE telling people that I cut myself on plastic wrap.) and have dropped 32 oz of ice on my toe.

Am I a klutz or what?

How Does My Garden Grow?

2009-09-28T12:56:00.003-05:00

I would love to garden. Really garden. Digging in the dirt, planting, weeding, that sort of thing. I get the Burpee's catalog in those long, gray days of winter and I dream about long, even rows of vegetables and a English garden of flowers. In those days, I really believe that I can do it. It seems possible. And then I try it. My lettuce bolted this year before it was big enough to pick. I think we got two salads out of it. The rabbits and the Japanese Beetles loved the basil. The green peppers and the tomatoes did ok. I usually have great luck with my jalepeno plant, but this year I think I only got 5 peppers. Just as well. Now that Jim can't eat that stuff, it's waaaaay too much for Becky and I.

I like planting herbs. When we first moved into this house 14plus years ago, I planted a sage plant. That thing took off like crazy. I was able to provide sage for several households. It turned into a bush that was really beautiful when it bloomed, all covered with those purply-blue blossoms. It died this year. Just up and died. There is nothing left of my beloved sage plant. Perhaps 14 is an old age for sage, but I wasn't ready for it. I am mourning my sage plant. I'll try again next year, I guess.

I like lavender too. I like the soft silvery leaves and the pretty flowers. I like the way it smells. I had a nice row of lavender until it was eaten up this year by the stupid lemon balm that I planted.

You see, what I am really good at growing is anything in the mint family. Anyone would be good at growing anything in the mint family. The stuff is unkillable. (I know that "unkillable" isn't a word, but it fits, so I'm using it!) I have one garden that was totally taken over by mint. I could supply Celestial Seasonings with all the mint they need for their Grandma's Tummy Mint Tea (which I love) and still have some to spare. I just spent the better part of a day trying to rip out the mint. It grows by runners underground and it's not easy to annihilate. It can grow and thrive in the cracks of your sidewalk or in your lawn. It's crazy stuff. It never stops. The Martha Stewart of herbs. Its close cousin is lemon balm. It smells just like liquid Joy dishsoap. I have no clue what to do with the stuff. Since we have a bumper crop, I looked it up online this summer and found recipes for lemon balm bread. It sounded good, so I tried it. It was good, execpt for the green flecks of lemon balm in it. So much for that idea. I hope to try and rip it out too. I mean, the darn stuff has killed my lavender! It is overrunning my cute little thyme plant. It is even threatening my rhubarb! It must be stopped! Do you know why I bought the cute, tiny little lemon balm plant in the first place? It's scientific name is Melissa officinalis, which is so cute and I thought Melissa would find it nice to have a cute little lemon-smelling plant with her name. The darn thing is like kudzu. It's evil. It has plans to take over the entire back yard, I'm sure of it. If I can get rid of it, I think I'll plant more lavender there. It knows how to behave itself.

Old School

2009-09-21T18:35:00.003-05:00

Back when I was a kid and you fell off your bike and skinned your knee, chances were that whatever Mom put on the scrape was going to hurt. A lot. While we mostly used Bactine, my grandmother was a staunch believer in Mercurochrome. It did turn your skin a pretty pinkish-orange. Jim's family always used Iodine. The one factor linking all of these medicines together was the fact that they HURT when you used them. That's how you knew it was working, getting deep into the tissues to fight infection. The more it hurt, the more you were sure it was working.
By the time my kids were old enough for scraped knees, Neosporin was the medicine of choice. I had my doubts about it. It didn't smell bad and it didn't sting. How in the world could it work? For awhile when my kids were young, we resorted to Iodine. By golly, you KNEW when it was working! Paint that stuff on a bloody knee and listen to the kids sudden intake of air and look at their white knuckles as they clutched the knee cap around the injury. That stuff was doing the trick! It HAD to be.

Well, through the years, we've discovered that triple anti-biotic ointment works pretty well, sting or no. However, in the back of my mind is still that niggling doubt. I have found that it is flourishing since my periodontal surgery. I was given an anti-microbial rinse to use 4 times a day for a week or two after surgery. The stuff didn't sting. It didn't taste too funny and I wondered about it's effectiveness. When it ran out, I grabbed my Listermint and rinsed with that. It did tingle a bit and the strong flavor let me know that it was on the job. When I saw the dr on Friday to remove the sutures, he asked me what I was rinsing with. When I told him Listerine, he prostested. "No, no,no!" he said, "that stuff BURNS, doesn't it?" " Well, yeah, kind of, but that's ok. I don't mind". I mumbled. Well, no, I guess he minded because he gave me a box of rinsing powder to mix with warm water. The stuff just tastes salty and I can't feel it working. I am using it, but am also rinsing with the Listermint because I KNOW it's working. I can feel it.

The lessons of childhood die hard.

It's Fall

2009-09-14T14:12:00.002-05:00

I always know when it is fall because I have an uncontrollable urge to clean and organize and get ready for the long winter ahead. I buy lots of canned goods and make sure the freezer is full. I harvest our tomatoes and try to think of ways to preserve them. As you can see by this picture, I'm not the only one stocking up on supplies for the bad weather. Regretfully Charlotte's lovely web will be destroyed on garbage day - - - - if I have the nerve to move the can to the curb. ****Shudder****

Scenes From A Sunday

2009-09-13T12:58:00.002-05:00

Yesterday while I was at work, Jim and Becky went out to the country to collect some monarch chrysalis for his classroom and to take some pictures. While they were there, they found a wild onion plant that was different from what Jim had seem before. They were so taken with this plant that they brought me an onion bloom to stick in a vase. Yes, that's right. Other women get roses or carnations or even daisies. I get an onion bloom. What does that say about me? It is kinda pretty. It smells like an onion though.
Becky has been asking for a very long time for me to make her homemade bagels. They really aren't that hard and don't take TOO long, so I finally gave in and made them today. As you can tell, I have a hard time with the "divide the dough into ten equal pieces" part of the recipe. It's sort of a "choose your size" kind of food. I hope they taste good.
This is a old, very rusty horseshoe that we found in "Abbey-land" at Benedictine College last summer when Emily took us on a tour. I have no idea why I am including it. Really I don't.
I looked out of our bedroom window and noticed that our magnolia is in bloom, if one bloom counts as in bloom. This was taken through the screen, so it looks fuzzy, but so be it.

My Friend the Grouch

2009-09-12T16:22:00.003-05:00

I've worked at the Catholic gift and book store for over 8 years now. In that time, I've gotten to know some of the customers fairly well. Some of them have even become friends. I am thinking of one in particular, whom I will call "Oscar".

I met Oscar for the first time several years ago. He is an older man with iron gray hair and pale complexion. He came in on a Saturday afternoon and the first thing that caught his eye was a statue of the Blessed Mother wielding a broom. Some of you might remember the story. He exploded, calling the statue "obscene". To tell you the truth, he scared me a little. It's intimidating to be yelled at.

From that time on, every time he came in, he'd gravitate to the statue. We eventually had a conversation about the statue representing holiness in our everyday lives and he understood. From that time on, he'd look for the statue and told me that he'd like to buy it. Quite a turn around.

I didn't know his name, so I started calling him "my grouch", because no matter what, he was always a little brusque and blunt. However a bond was forming between us. We were becoming friends. He told me about his wife, who had a stroke and was not doing at all well. He had to put her in a nursing home and it broke his heart. She had had "quite a fine mind" he told me and now that was all gone. He had cared for her at home as long as he could and finally came to the realization that she needed more help than he could provide. Within months, his wife had died and he was really alone.

We noticed at work that he looked thinner and even more pale than usual. His lips were becoming darker. We remarked on it to each other and just assumed that he missed his wife. However two weeks in a row, Oscar came into the store at his usual time huffing and puffing from the walk from his car. I thought he needed to be on oxygen.

Two weeks ago, Oscar came in worse than ever before. The short walk from the parking lot had tired him out completely. He looked awful. His lips were purple. He was really grouchy too. I asked is he was ok and he brushed my question away. I asked if I could call his son for him because I was really worried. He barked out his "NO!" He usually buys a copy of our diocesan newspaper and it hadn't been delivered yet, so he made a gesture of disgust and walked out. I kept an eye on him while trying to help the other customers. Within minutes he was back in the store and was thoroughly agitated. His car wouldn't start. He began pacing back and forth, panting and muttering, "I don't know what to do!" over and over again. I renewed my offer to call his son and was again brushed aside. He continued his tirade and I was getting very worried. I went to the back room and brought up a chair and made him sit down and then I picked up the phone. I called the one person I knew would help - my husband. Within minutes, Jim and Becky had arrived on the scene. Jim jump-started Oscar's car and then followed him across town to his mechanic so that Oscar could buy new battery. Oscar had been so upset, I was really worried about his health. Jim said that he was doing better by the time his car was fixed. Oscar showed his gratitude by buying Becky a miniature license plate with her name on it and by paying for a repair on our van that he had noticed needed doing.

Last week I was gone on his usual day and my boss told me that Oscar was really looking bad. I was at work today and Oscar came in at his usual time. He thanked me again for helping him and asked after Jim and Becky. I thanked him for paying for our repair. He waved it off. He then said that he'd like me to pray for him. He is having heart surgery this week. His doctors recommended it 6 years ago, but he didn't want to do it. He knows now that it is needed.

Please pray for Oscar. That isn't his real name (and yes, I do know it!), but God will know who you mean. In spite of his direct attitude, he really is a sweetie.

Periodontal Surgery

2009-09-05T08:32:00.002-05:00

This is pretty much what I look like today. Perhaps a little less furry, but you get the idea. I had two kinds of periodontal surgery yesterday and I am pretty swollen today. Surprisingly, I don't really have pain, just an achy mouth. I hope that it stays that way! I get my stitches out in two weeks and in the meantime, I have to eat a soft food diet. For now that means soup and yogurt, but I should be able to work my way up to cottage cheese and scrambled eggs in a few days. Happy Labor Day everyone! Enjoy the holiday.

Diagnosis Critical

2009-08-27T07:51:00.002-05:00

I recently plowed my way through Diagnosis Critical The Urgent Threats Confronting Catholic Healthcare by Leonard J. Nelson III.

Although the book is plugged as being a book for the average person, I found that it read more like a college textbook. In fact, I think it would be an excellent reference for a class on Medical Ethics or Business or even current events.

It is a timely topic certainly, with nationalized health care looming on our horizon and no one really knowing what that will entail. This book examines the history of Catholic health care in our nation and it's uncertain future. With the current administration pushing national health care and it's own agenda, it could mean the end to the conscience clause for health care givers that lets Catholic doctors and nurses opt out of providing services that violates Catholic beliefs, such as abortion. This may mean the closing of hundreds of Catholic hospitals and clinics and may leave Catholic medical personnel scrambling for a second career.

The six sections of the book cover Moral Foundations, Catholic Identity, The Struggle to Maintain Catholic Identity as Reflected in Two Health Care Systems, Catholic Health Care and The Right to Conscientious Objection, End of Life Care, and Social Justice and Health Care Reform. All are covered thoroughly and in depth.

The book discusses the evolution of bio-ethics, evolving from natural law to becoming more PC, much like our society as a whole.

It also talks about the history of Catholic health care. Catholic hospitals began in this country in the mid to late 1800's as a way to serve the Catholic immigrants who were being discriminated against. They were run by orders of sisters and the sisters were the administrators of the hospitals. Now with the diminished number of religious, the hospitals are run more like businesses and less like Catholic charities. Also since the hospitals accept federal money for Medicare and Medicaid, etc, they leave themselves open to federal restrictions. Therein lays the blessing and the curse.

No one really knows what our eventual health care plan may include. Many people, myself included, worry about inclusions for abortion and euthanasia. I had hopes that this book would explain to me - your basic average person - the threats and the possible solutions to the problem. As the author is a law professor, perhaps this is as "dumbed" down as he gets, but I had hoped for something easier to read. If you want an in-depth, retrospective look at Catholic health care and the current threats to it's future, read this book. Just don't expect to read it in an evening,

I recieved this book as part of the Catholic Company reviewers program. Check them out!

Tuesdays With Kara

2009-08-26T06:21:00.002-05:00

I am spending every Tuesday with Kara while her parents try to earn a living. Yesterday was my first day with her. She is nearly 3 months old and has quite a personality. We had such fun laughing and squealing yesterday. I tried over and over again to get some pictures of those face-splitting grins.
She sees the camera and immediately quits smiling. In fact, she ends up looking rather sad.
Every time! Out comes the camera, the smiles disappear. Try as I might, I never got a good picture of Kara's smile.
These two were as close as I could get. Maybe on my next Tuesday with Kara, I can get a better shot.

At any rate, it was so much fun getting to know my little blue-eyed girl.

14!!

2009-08-26T05:59:00.002-05:00

Monday was Becky's 14th birthday. It's hard for me to believe that my baby is 14 already. She is a sweet, hard-working young lady, a perfect teen for our older years! Keep it up, Beck!

Go Ahead, Just Burst My Bubble!

2009-08-21T19:05:00.004-05:00

When I was little, we used to visit my grandmother in Iowa and sometimes my Aunt would take my brother and I to the town's library. It was a Carnegie library, one of many built with money donated by Andrew Carnegie a hundred or so years ago. You walked up a set of wide marble steps to the double doors. Inside was the round circulation desk in front of cases and cases of lovely books. And you know the best thing about the library? The smell! It smelled of old paper and leather bindings. Of library paste and ink. Of adventure and knowledge. That smell meant that you were soon to time travel to the Civil War era with Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy. Or maybe visit the moors in Yorkshire at a spooky old house with a brooding master and a crazy wife. Or maybe you'd just go to Boston Common and watch a policeman help ducklings cross the street. The smell was rich with possibilities.

As an adult, I preferred the library in our twin city because it "smells like a library!" I love that smell. Our town library doesn't quite have that certain quality that makes a library a magical place yet. I guess it's all too new. Or maybe too well ventilated.

Last week when Kathy and I took Emily back to school, she took us on a tour of the oldest building on campus. I had never been in it before. It houses the Education Dept, the Art Dept, the Music Dept and the Business Dept. We opened classroom doors and peeped in. Emily took us to the Music Department's library in this old, musty building. As soon as she opened the door, that wonderful smell hit me. Books! I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. "Ah, the smell of books" I sighed. " It smells wonderful".

"Mom, that's not the smell of books. It's Alternaria." said my very knowledgeable bibliophile daughter Emily.

"That's right." Said my equally intellectual daughter Kathy. "Dad taught us that in Biology class. It's a fungus."

"No!" I protested weakly, remembering my husband telling me that exact thing."It's books! It's old paper and leather bindings and library paste and ink."

The girls looked at me sadly and shook their heads. "Alternaria" They both said. "It eats the paper."

Next thing you know they'll be telling me there is no Santa Claus.

Back To School, Part III

2009-08-21T09:51:00.003-05:00

My daughter Kathy and I took Melissa back to school yesterday. We had to go take a look at her former apartment. It was stunning. Her apartment was on the bottom right of the top picture. While her apartment sustained only heavy smoke and water damage from the lightening strike fire, you can tell how badly damaged the entire building is. While standing outside the orange safety fence, I saw a piece of a burned brick just inside the fence. Kathy reached in to get it. That is what Melissa is carrying in the bottom picture.

That brick is more than just a brick. It is a reminder of what is really important. A building was lost in that fire. 30 students will have to find new accommodations for this semester. Some kids were living there this summer and their belongings were lost. But NO ONE was killed. No one was injured. Stuff can be replaced. People can't. Melissa placed the brick on the balcony of her new apartment. It may not be carried home with her at the end of this academic year, but the lessons learned will be carried with all of us for a long time. We all need to learn to let go of stuff and hold on to what is important.

Back To School, Part II

2009-08-19T08:37:00.003-05:00

Becky's first day of school. She is in 8th grade, which is hard for me to believe. Today is the start of our 22nd consecutive year at our parish grade school. It is also the start of Jim's 26th year at the high school.

In The Blink Of An Eye

2009-08-17T17:12:00.003-05:00

This was the building my daughter Melissa lived in last school year. Her apartment was actually at the back of the building, just behind the stairs.

Last night it was hit by lightening. Follow this link to see what it looks like now. I think the news story picture shows her apartment on the bottom right.

Thank you so much Lord that only two people were living there. Thank you that no one was hurt or killed. Thank you that Melissa is still here at home for a few more days. Please keep her safe. Amen.

Back To School, Part I

2009-08-16T20:42:00.002-05:00

We took Emily back to school this weekend. She was so happy to be back. You could feel her excitement. My oldest daughter Kathy went with me and we had lots of fun. I took the above picture during our speed tour of Benedictine on Friday afternoon. This is the rose window in Ferrell Hall, which used to be the old Abbey.
Emily couldn't move in until 1:00 on Saturday so we had lots of time to shop Atchison. There are so many fun shops to explore. Our favorite is Nell Hill's, shown above. The owner has another store, Garrity's just a block north of Nell. Kathy and I both made some fun purchases at Nell Hill's. I can't wait to get my new hooks and tin picture hung up! Kathy is looking forward to decorating her new house with her purchases.
We ran into Amelia Earhart on the Mall in downtown Atchison. She was born in Atchison and is still beloved there.

We had an amazing Turkey Chipotle Ciabatta sandwich at Snowballs for lunch followed by yummy ice cream. I had triple caramel and I'd have it again in a heartbeat! Delicious.

Then it was time to move Emily into her apartment. Since she had a ground floor unit, it took very little time and we were able to help my boss's daughter move into the apartment across the hall.

Kathy and I even enjoyed the long trip back to Illinois. We talked and laughed and had a good time. She is very good company and I am very glad that she will be living in town now. I have been very blessed with my lovely children and am so proud of all of them.

Back to School Part II continues on Wednesday when I move Melissa back to school. Jim and Becky start that day as well.

Requiem

2009-08-10T20:40:00.001-05:00

I am posting something special for our former pastor, Monsignor M who died recently. This was his favorite prayer. Rest in peace, Monsignor.

Native American Prayer

Oh, Great Spirit
Whose voice I hear in the winds,
And whose breath gives life to all the world,
hear me, I am small and weak,
I need your strength and wisdom.
Let me walk in beauty and make my eyes ever behold
the red and purple sunset.
Make my hands respect the things you have
made and my ears sharp to hear your voice.
Make me wise so that I may understand the things
you have taught my people.
Let me learn the lessons you have
hidden in every leaf and rock.

I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother,
but to fight my greatest enemy - myself.
Make me always ready to come to you
with clean hands and straight eyes.
So when life fades, as the fading sunset,
my Spirit may come to you without shame.

Moments That Warm My Heart

2009-08-03T14:19:00.002-05:00

It's been crazy at work. My boss is on vacation, so I am manning the fort alone. Last week was also the last few days of our school uniform sale, so that means me and a bunch of Moms and kids in the store. Friday was especially busy. I had several families I was helping to find uniforms, the phone was ringing and there were people to ring up at the register too. At one point, we had a bit of a lull and I went back to the fitting rooms to see if I needed to pick up back there. In one fitting room, there were at least 8 uniform skirts on the floor. After I took a picture of the mess with my cell phone, I started cleaning up. Honestly, sometimes this place is just like home! Anyway, my point is that it was really busy. There was one family with several small children who needed uniforms. Mom was doing her best to corral the kids, but when you only have two eyes and two hands, sometimes kids slip through. Apparently one did. Saturday afternoon, the Mom and one of her daughters came back into the store. I noticed that the girl looked a little uncomfortable, but Mom was smiling. Mom told me that her daughter had something to tell me. The little girl took a deep breath and started in. Unfolding her hand to show one of our little 50 cent pewter saint medals, the girl began " I took this yesterday when we were here. I am sorry. I will never do it again and I hope you can forgive me." She was on the verge of tears and honestly, she was so cute it was all I could do not to smile and laugh. I crouched down to her level and looked her in the eyes. "Thank you for telling me this. I do forgive you. I also think that you were very brave to tell me this. Thank you." She sniffled a bit and began to cry. Her mom hugged her and they left. I'm sure both Mom and daughter had lighter hearts and I know that I did.

Signs and Mysteries

2009-08-01T19:30:00.007-05:00

My first book to review from The Catholic Company is "Signs and Mysteries: Revealing Ancient Christian Symbols" by Mike Aquilina, illustrated by Lea Marie Ravotti.

I found the book to be fascinating and easy to read. It is divided up into 26 chapters, with each chapter detailing a particular Christian symbol. Often these symbols were found in tombs, in mosaics or as decorations on useful objects such as lamps. The early Christians understood the symbolism behind dolphins, for example, but we modern Christians have lost that understanding. ( The dolphin represents Christ, since dolphins are known as rescuers, guides and friends in the vast ocean. Christ is all of those things in our lives.)

This book "is an act of piety toward our ancestors, so that we might learn to see the world once again with their eyes, and to pray to live as they once prayed and lived."

The book covers such symbols as peacocks, anchors, the ankh, and the more familiar (to us) symbols of the fish, cross and the Chi Rho. Besides explaining the symbols, the book also delves into typeology, which really fascinates me. Typeology is the study of the foreshadowing of Christ and the Gospels in the Old Testament. For instance, in the chapter dealing with shepherds, the author explains how the 23rd Psalm is a foretelling of Jesus as the Good Shepherd (which is easy to figure out), but also the sacraments were foretold as well. "Leads me beside still waters" is baptism. "Prepare a table before me" is the Eucharist. "You anoint my head with oil" can mean Confirmation, Anointing of the Sick and Holy Orders. That explanation gave me an "Aha!" insight that was very exciting.

Another interesting tidbit that I learned is regarding the dove as a symbol. We modern Christians view the dove as representing the Holy Spirit, yet the early Christians used the dove as a symbol of the soul of the believer. Often used in funerary art, the dove with an olive branch represented a soul at peace. When St Polycarp was martyred, it was said that a dove went forth from the stab wound that killed him - his soul separating from his body. I like that visual.

Remember the ankh symbol? When I was in junior high, I had an ankh ring. I had no idea what it meant, I just knew it was in style and all of the cool kids (and me) had one. In ancient Egypt, it meant "life". As Egypt gained more and more Christian converts, the ankh became a symbol of the resurrection and heaven. It also suggested the cross of Christ. Even though I didn't know it at the time, my ankh ring had strong Christian connotations.

There were so many "Oh wow!" moments in this book that I would practically have to re-write it all here in order to mention them all. I found this book to be a real learning experience for me and one that I thoroughly enjoyed. This book will become a valuable resource in our home library.

Growing Pains

2009-08-01T07:10:00.003-05:00

I am viewing the start of the school year with mixed feelings. This is a big year at our house. It's Emily's last year of college. She graduates in May and will be let loose on the world at large. I'm not too worried about that . She is a highly capable young lady with the intelligence and skills to see her through. She has been well-educated. I only hope the world is ready for her. I do mourn (a little) her passing from child to adult, although truly she hasn't been "my Emily" for a long time. Independent and blessed with a strong personality, she has been her own person since early childhood. It's just the idea that she will soon join the ranks of "the Real World" that I don't want to wrap my mind around.

Melissa will be a junior in college and is close on Emily's heels. I feel like I still have a buffer year with her. She is a totally different personality as well. Sweet, gentle and less confident in herself, she reminds me of Kathy, my oldest. Both are smart and perfectly able to do anything they put their minds to, but both let doubts cloud their minds. I can relate to that. I do know that Melissa can have a will of steel and that has served her well so far.

And Becky, my baby! She is going into 8th grade - the last year of grade school. Something wonderful and amazing has happened to her this summer. My little girl is growing up. She's gone from being colt-like, all knees and elbows and angles to something else. The angles are softening, rounding. She's going from a skinny, bony child to an elegant, graceful young lady. She suddenly cares about her looks and her clothes. It used to be that I would push her hair out of her face and despair that she would ever care about taking care of herself. She got contacts this summer and now we can all see what a pretty girl she really is. It's hard to believe that she will be in high school next year and will be sitting as a student in her Dad's classroom.

Time is flying by and I'd just like it to slow down a little bit.

An Open Letter to Junior High Girls

2009-07-30T17:52:00.002-05:00

Dear Ladies,

I know that you do not want to be shopping for school uniforms. You have made that abundantly clear. But here's a news flash - I betcha that your mothers and grandmothers don't want to shop for school uniforms either, yet they smile and chat pleasantly and have to apologize for your behavior. You are embarrassing. You embarrass your mothers and yourselves but you are too self-absorbed to notice that. You are so concerned about what your peers may think of you, that you don't stop to consider that the rest of the world thinks you look sullen and ill-tempered. Let me tell you something girls, your friends, the ones that you are so obsessed with impressing, are too concerned about themselves to spare you a thought. So take some advice from this grandma: Stand up straight, quit rolling your eyes, smile and stop sighing loudly. The world will love you for it. And so will your mothers.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

Love ya anyway,
Me

I am excited

2009-07-21T20:23:00.002-05:00

If you look at the sidebar to your right, you will notice a badge for the Catholic Company. I am now an Official Product Reviewer. I have a couple of blogging friends who do this and I debated about joining for some time. Last night, I decided to bite the bullet and just do it. Every 6 weeks or so, I will be allowed to peruse their new products list and choose one item to be sent to me to review. I will need to publish my review on this blog and provide a link on their Reviewer Center. Then I will be eligible to choose another book. Now I am so excited that I can hardly wait for my first book to arrive! Take a look at their website and browse all of the items available. They carry a lot of stuff!

As someone who works in a small, local retail Catholic store, don't forget to patronize your local stores as well as these wonderful websites. The important thing is to buy stuff at BOTH locations and make everyone happy! : )

And because it's been a whole week . . .

2009-07-20T20:30:00.000-05:00

Here's a picture of Kara in her baptism gown.

Our Mini-Vacation

2009-07-20T20:09:00.002-05:00

About an hour and a half southeast of us is a small Amish community. We like to go there every so often to shop! The handmade oak furniture is breath-taking and we have bought two desks, an end table, a desk chair and a hickory rocker there over the years. We didn't make the trip last year since gas was over $4.00 a gallon. Now that is is significantly lower, we decided to go last Thursday. We packed a picnic lunch, picked up our eldest daughter and off we went. The weather was perfect - low '80's and no humidity. We hit the main street stores in Arthur and then headed out on the back roads to see what we could see. It is hay-making time and we were fortunate enough to see several crews out in the fields. If you click on the above picture, you should be able to see it in more detail.

The Amish fascinate me. They truly live their faith - in a very visible way. With their unique dress, the lack of electricity and gas-powered vehicles, in many ways they live the way our grandparents and great-grandparents lived. I admire that. Of course because I am me, I also wish that they all could be Catholic -LOL - but I respect their beliefs. I also admire them because it seems that they live their lives as a tourist attraction. Everywhere they go and whatever they do, they have to dodge the tourist's pointing fingers and cameras. We tried to be unobtrusive and avoid taking pictures of their faces, but even so, to know that the "English" world finds them an oddity must annoy them from time to time. It would me.

On this trip, we found some Amish markets on the side roads. We bought bacon and fudge (OH MY!!!) and pumpkin butter. We bought black bean salsa, maple syrup and blue popcorn (which is very good - a little different from the stuff we usually pop, but very good). We got ice cream cones at one market. We bought two hot dog roasting forks (for our campfires) at our favoritel store in downtown Arthur. Every one we met was friendly and helpful. It was a delightful trip.
So until we go again, we have some good memories of a gentle people.

Her First Sacrament

2009-07-12T17:49:00.002-05:00

Kara was baptized today. Since our church is undergoing a major construction project, Mass is held in the school cafeteria. Could you tell? Well, the surroundings may not have been beautiful, but the baptism certainly was. Kara was perfect - she slept through most of it, but even when she woke up, she didn't cry. Deacon Mark baptized her. He is so sincere and earnest. He even teared up at time or two. (as a side note, please pray for Deacon Mark's wife. She is undergoing treatment for breast cancer now in hopes that the tumor will shrink enough for surgery.)

Afterwards, Charles and Kim held a party at their house for everyone. It was nice to see so many people there. Kim's family is great and we were so happy that Jim's brother and sister-in-law came too. Even my son-in-law's mother came! It was a lovely day, made to order with perfect weather on top of everything else. God is good.

Well!

2009-07-03T18:52:00.000-05:00

Happy Blogoversary to me. 2 years of blogging under my belt.

Kara at One Month

2009-06-30T21:14:00.002-05:00

Hello everyone. I am Kara Mae. I am one month old now. I have skinny legs. My grandma is jealous of my legs.
I am growing up so fast. I don't think so, but that's what everyone tells me. It seems to be taking FOREVER , in my opinion. Like a lifetime.
I like to study people's faces. They seem to like to study mine too. My Mommy is very pretty and I really like to look at her. I like to eat and sleep and cry too, but sometimes I just like to look around. There is so much to see. I'll have to think about spending more time just looking. It's fun and people seem to like it better than when I cry. I may need to schedule more time for that hobby.

See you next time my Grandma wants to brag about me.

Honest!

2009-06-28T20:49:00.003-05:00

Nancy, at Be Not Afraid, has awarded me the Honest Scrap Award. I discovered Nancy in a roundabout way. She actually "followed" my daughter's blog and I started reading her blog and discovered a kindred spirit. We think so much alike sometimes that it is scary. I've been following her journey through serious illness, surgery and recovery. Thanks, Nancy!

To accept this award, I need to: 1) Say thanks and give a link to the presenter of the award. 2) Share "ten honest things" about myself. 3) Present this award to 7 others whose blogs I find brilliant in content and/or design, or those who have encouraged me. 4) Tell those 7 people that they've been awarded HONEST SCRAP and inform them of these guidelines in receiving it :)

So here goes to the ten honest things! (gulp!)

1. I am afraid of heights. Not just heights, but staircases and rotundas nearly make me ill. No, not nearly, they DO make me ill. It's all I can do to maintain any sense of composure while climbing a staircase under a rotunda. State capitol buildings, our old county courthouse etc are just torture to me. I hug the walls and try not to cry. It's embarrassing. I'd crawl up the stairs on my hands and knees and feel a whole lot better if it were at all socially acceptable.

2. I don't like nuts. Especially black walnuts. I've learned to like almonds. I can handle cashews and pecans, but I detest walnuts.

3. I spend the summers craving ice cream and popsicles. I can go the rest of the year ignoring them, but HAVE to have them in the summer.

4. I don't handle heat well. I become very crabby.

5. I don't like the cold either. My comfort zone is about 2 degrees wide. One either side of that I either roast or freeze.

6. I love my parish. It's home.

7. I am afraid of public speaking. My voice quavers. Being president of Altar and Rosary for three years was . . . interesting. I did ok in meetings, but at events, I was horrible.

8. I enjoy spending time with my family. My kids are terrific and it is so much fun to see them as adults (at least 4/5 of them are adults). They are just good people.

9. I am hooked on Yankee Candles.

10. It may not look it, but I have a black thumb. I kill plants without even trying.

Bonus honest thing: I have cut waaaaaaaaay back on my blog reading. I *think* I still read 7 blogs . . . .
I would like to award the following bloggers:

Renee at S.A.G.A.

Julie at Joyful Days

Michelle at Dei Gratia

Ruth at This, That and The Other Thing

Janette at Ground Level in Kansas

Teresa at A Day in The Life

And just to be ornery, I'm gonna give it back to Nancy at Be Not Afraid (I'd like to see if what she will come up with for her next 10 honest things!)

Because I Am Cheap

2009-06-23T14:12:00.002-05:00

This is a stack of fabric that I am going to change into pillowcases. You know how when you buy a set of sheets, you always need more pillowcases? We like two pillows each and to buy another set of pillow cases can cost nearly as much as the entire set of sheets. A few years ago, I decided to make my own. My "style" is country - I love patchwork quilts and pottery and primitives, so I dug in even though I am not much of a sewer.

My former souce of fabric was our Super Wal-Mart where I bought most of the fabric I use for only $1 or $2/yard. However the powers that be at Wal-Mart have removed the fabric departments at our two Wal-Marts, so I will have to cast my nets farther afield. Anyway, buy 2 1/4 yards of fabric for each set of pillow cases. Wash the fabric to make sure it won't shrink and to remove extra dye and sizing. Fold the length of fabric in half length wise. Fold that in half width wise and cut along the fold. Now you should have two fairly equal size pieces.
Then you go downstairs to the dungeon - er, basement - where the items of torture are located. Set your iron on cotton setting and fold back roughly 1 inch of fabric onto the wrong side of the piece. You want to do this on the "short" side that will end up being the open end of the pillow case. Iron that hem in.
Now fold over several inches more (I never measure, just eyeball it.) You want a generous hem. Press that hem in as well. Then retreat back upstairs to your "sewing" room and sew in the hem first. You will want to line up the sewing machine foot along the first line you pressed in. Once that hem is sewn, fold the pillow case in half length wise with the right sides together. Beginning at the top of the hemmed side, sew together the long side and the bottom. If you have folded the fabric correctly at the beginning, the other long side will not need stitching as it is one of your folds. Turn the pillow case inside out and you are done! Repeat until all of your store of fabric has been transformed into useful objects. I don't use pins and don't measure and so far, everything has turned out fine. This is an uber-easy project and I find it fun.
This is our bed showing some of the pillow cases I have made in the past. It's hard to see, but the one in the back is a case I made to cover a body pillow. In case I've never mentioned it here before, I LOVE blue, so most of my pillow cases are blue, but I also love the way yellow looks with blue, so I use a lot of that too.

See that "headboard" behind our bed? That's called a window. Our bed is under the window because it is the only place in the room that the stupid street light across the street won't shine into someone's eyes. And yes, I am aware that the bed is not centered under the window. That's because the window is not centered in the room and there is a whole lot more room on one side of the bed than there is on the other.
Here is the stack of pillow cases I have made over the years for us. The bottom ones are flannel for winter. I love mixing and matching them in different ways. I have also made ones using a star pattern for Becky when she had all star bedding. I've made pillow cases of fun, funky fabrics for Emily and Melissa to take to school with them. I made a couple of sets in pretty sage green prints for Kathy and Jon when they were married. It doesn't take long and only costs a few dollars for a set. And any mistakes can be called "folk art"!

Hand Me A Hammer, Noah

2009-06-21T12:04:00.001-05:00

Splish splash, I was taking a walk.
Originally uploaded by Rascaille Rabbit

This has been the rainiest year that I can remember. And this is after the snowiest winter in recent memory. It looks like we live in Ireland. Everything is lush and green. It's hard to find time to mow the yard in between rains.

This is a picture that Jim took of Becky after a storm Friday night as they walked (sloshed) over to our parish's carnival. I thought it was an exceptionally cute picture and wanted to find a way to blog about it. : )

In spite of the rain, I think our carnival was a success. It ran Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Friday was the only soggy night and the show went on anyway. In fact, I walked over there Friday night to get some pictures of the band that was playing. They've been around forever and when my brother was in college, they were his favorite band to go see. I wanted to send him the pictures, so I headed over after one storm, but got caught in another. The rides were stopped, but the band played on. The crew tried to cover up the stage opening with plastic tarp, but the band ended up moving the show temporarily to the beer tent. Once the worst was over, they came back out. They were pretty good, for a bunch of old guys! (Actually they were just really good and they seemed to being having fun. Anyway, there were good crowds all nights and fun for all. This is the 7th annual carnival and the committee in charge seems to have the bugs worked out - if only the weather would cooperate!

At Three Weeks

2009-06-18T18:41:00.000-05:00

Portrait of a Workaholic

2009-06-17T20:04:00.002-05:00

Meet Angeline V. Milner. She abbreviated her first name as Ange. I'm not sure if it was pronounced "Angie" or "Ang" and I'm afraid that I cannot ask her to enlighten us.

Ange. was the first librarian at Illinois State Normal University. In time, the university changed it's name to Illinois State University. A Normal school, for those who do not know, is a teaching college, hence our town's funny name has it's meaning in the school. Since the university had broadened it's focus, it was no longer deemed fit to call it a Normal school. That and they were probably sick of the jokes too.

Anyway, Ange. was the first full-time librarian , hired in 1890. She continued to work until she was 71 and she died in 1928. She was a hard worker and was legendary for her devotion to her job.

It was Milner’s belief that the school library had two missions:,

To develop a taste for good literature and the habit of reading it, and to broaden the comprehension of the daily lessons and teach the use of books as tools.

For thirty-seven years she classified and organized and worked tirelessly until the library's collection numbered 40,000 volumes. The original library was located in the Old Main building, which was later demolished in 1957. That is where Ange. Milner worked with such dedication. Later a new library was built and it was named Milner Library after Ange. Miss Milner never worked there, in fact it was built after her death. By the time I arrived at ISU in the late '70's, that building was obsolete and was used for storage. The new Milner Library was much larger than anything Miss Milner could have imagined with six floors of books and materials. Now the library had 800,000 volumes and many of the books Miss Milner knew were kept in storage in the old Milner Library, now known as Williams Hall.

Soon it became suspected that Miss Milner had stuck around with her beloved books. Although the books were in storage, on occasion a professor would need some of the books for reseach. The librarians would remove the books from the stacks, arrange them on a cart in readiness for them to be picked up. When the professor arrived for the books, they could no longer be found and it was discovered that they had been reshelved. A "presence" could be felt in among the stacks. The air would be cold. People's hair would stand on end. Sometimes, even a vapor-like white figure could be seen walking among the books. Footsteps have been heard. While it must be very disconcerting for those who worked there, most people tend to regard the possibility of Miss Milner's ghost with affection. She loved the library and she was dedicated to those books. Maybe she still is.

This Week

2009-06-13T08:00:00.002-05:00

I had a little out-patient surgery on Thursday of this week to remove an ovarian cyst. I think I pretty much underestimated how wiped out I would feel. I expected to feel tired etc on Thursday, but expected to bounce back on Friday. Not so much.

I am feeling better. The pain is minimal now, but I am still tired.

Remember my blog post on my skinny body parts? I forgot one. I have very skinny veins. Makes starting IV's a little tricky sometimes. The nurse did get mine started on the first stick, thank you God, but had to do a little probing, so my hand looks pretty bruised.

The good news is that at least one of the symptoms of the cyst is gone. I don't want to go into details here, but let's just say that for roughly 2 weeks of every month, I felt pretty miserable. It appears that is over. I sure hope so.

I do have some lovely colorful pictures of my surgery that my dr took of my innards. I don't believe that I will share them with you. At any rate, if I have been a little quiet this week, both here and on your blogs, this is why. I've got some ideas for some future blog entries that have NOTHING to do with my inner workings, so I'll hopefully be back with those as I can. This upcoming week is pretty busy as well as Jim has a medical procedure on Wednesday and my boss has the same one scheduled on Thursday, so I'll be nurse and chauffer on Wed and will be minding the fort on Thurs. I get my stitches out on Tues and should be pretty much back to normal.